Condemned
by Calico West
Summary: Laurel DeWalt is shot to death and on her dying breath, she whispers the name of the man that will be convicted of her murder and condemned to die: Jess Harper.
1. Chapter 1

Condemned

Chapter One

Laurel DeWalt sat alone by her campfire for the tenth straight day, the ache in her heart growing steadily by the minute. Her most recent lover had finished with her and sent her packing. It was different, yet was still in similar fashion as to how her husband, Arnold, had left her near Tumavaca three months earlier, only this time, she wasn't left penniless. Her pleading had worked on Rhett Coulson as she'd dropped her eyes to the ground, letting that one tear slide down her face. She looked back up at him, eyes moist and alluring, opened her mouth to speak, but when no sound emitted, he turned to walk into his house and returned with a pocket full of cash.

Rhett Coulson was a married man and had only entertained her while his wife was away visiting relatives. He had only just confessed that fact to Laurel when he received word his wife was on her way home. Laurel immediately despised him, telling him flat out that if he was any kind of man, he would leave his wife to be with her. But he wasn't man enough to do that, so he wasn't man enough for her.

As she rode away from him with her hand clasped firmly to the money, she kept repeating in her head how stupid and spineless he was. Just like Arnold. But then again, just like all the other men she'd toyed with in the last few years, except for maybe one. Yes, she knew without a doubt that there was one. Jess Harper.

Laurel added some fuel to the fire to get the flames going stronger. The night held a chill, but the loneliness made an iciness that only a man's arms could warm, but for now, the fire would have to do. She leaned back against a log, envisioning Jess Harper once again. He would reject her, she was certain, if she went to him. After all, he'd left her there alone outside Tumavaca with almost the same poignancy as Arnold had. He'd looked at her with those intense blue eyes that held a bitter glare that still made her shudder.

But there was something about Jess, not just his gorgeous looks that captivated her, it was his loyalty. He was a man that could be depended on, that's why when she found him at the relay station where he worked as she ran away from Arnold that she'd clung to him like he was her lifeline. Laurel had lied to him and had used him in every way she knew how to get what she wanted because she knew she had that power over him. It all would have worked if Arnold hadn't sent those men after them. Maybe Jess' deep, devoted loyalty would still be in effect now. There would be only one way to find out.

For now, however, she wasn't aiming for the Sherman Relay Station in Laramie where Jess lived, although a letter she had penned likely would soon be arriving there if it hadn't been delivered already. First, she was going to see Arnold and considering she figured she was only another day's travel away, she should meet up with him soon. There was a piece of unfinished business she had to settle with him. Once it was finished, she could finally be free to go after whatever man she chose without any leftover ties to keep her from getting what she truly wanted.

Laurel had many nights alone to think about what she needed, or more so, what she wanted, and her mind kept returning to Jess Harper. There was a time that she said she loved him, and then there was a time she hated him, but now, that emotion was back to the first, although to Laurel, true love didn't exist, but was more defined as lust. She wanted Jess and if she had her way, she would have him.

Jess wasn't stupid and spineless, despite how he treated her when he discovered her wickedness. He was honorable. He wasn't like Montero Rios or Rhett Coulson who didn't care that she was a married woman and even relished in the fact that they could conquer another man's wife. Jess had been torn with guilt, even in the midst of their intimacy, and in the end, had acted more on those feelings of his self and Arnold, than what he felt for her. If she really wanted to have Jess, to completely and wholly have him and have the same feelings returned, she would have to be a free woman. She had attempted to kill her husband before, but her shooting had been in haste and hadn't been accurate enough. She would plan it much more carefully next time. She had to, because she had to have Jess.

With a sigh, Laurel dropped her body lower to the ground, stretching her legs out in front of her. She was weary from what seemed like endless traveling from Rhett's ranch to get to the Diamond D and soon her eyes started to flutter close, but a sudden noise in the nearby brush had her eyes wide open as she waited for the intruder to come into sight. She didn't fear for long, since the man that entered her camp, although completely unexpected, was no stranger to her at all.

Laurel looked up at the man and smiled, but the expression wasn't returned. He looked at her, almost like she wasn't even there, the eyes were so cold, even cruel, but Laurel knew she had more that she could offer him than just a smile, even if he looked disinterested at the moment. Laurel had ways to change that, since she'd proven herself quite capable with many different men in the past. Laurel sat herself in an upright position, put the tip of her pinky finger in the corner of her mouth and chewed the nail slightly, as her eyes took in the man's entire body, reveling in his masculinity. Why not? After all, she had been so lonely all these days on the trail, but now she was no longer alone.

"I'm glad you're here," Laurel said, the words purring from her mouth in seductive notes.

There was no reply, although her guest took two steps closer to her and she took that as an acceptance to her open invitation. Laurel ran her hand through her long, golden hair and twirled it at the tips around her finger, as she barely glanced at the man enticingly through her thick lashes. She parted her lips, licking first the top, then the bottom, leaving a moist pout that no man in the past could resist. She then ran her finger around the top of her blouse that always cut down lower than most appropriate women wore, resting her finger on the top button, ready to spring it open. Laurel's breathing increased in excitement as the flames from the fire caught in her eyes matching the igniting blaze she felt in her core as she watched the man walk slowly towards her, knowing that her longings would soon be fulfilled.

Laurel raised her arms out to him, her smile spreading on her face. She looked up to see eyes that didn't share her passion, but she knew once their bodies touched, he'd find his ardor. The eagerness was there, she could sense it in his movements and she moved her body seductively to show him she was ready for him to claim her.

But what happened was not what she'd expected and came so suddenly, the shock wasn't registered on her face. A gun was pulled, aimed decisively, and then fired twice, sending Laurel flat on her back, gasping for air as the bullets did their damage.

"Never again," the man said through gritted teeth, "not ever again!"

The man gave one last scathing look at Laurel and then hurried his steps back into the bushes and was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Jess," Laurel whispered as she fought the waves of unconsciousness. She closed her eyes, and in her dreamlike state, she could see Jess walking away from her again like he had done before, only this time, it seemed with more finality. But she couldn't let him leave, not now, not when she needed him. She had to call to him, had to bring him back to her. "Jess!"

Her voice aroused her and she lifted her head slightly off the ground, but that was about as far as her mobility could go. Laurel knew she was dying, could feel the life in her body escaping as quickly as the blood poured from her abdomen where the bullets had pierced. She bit her lip as the pain overwhelmed her, but fear of the death that was coming kept her eyes open and locked to the place where her killer had last stood before he shot her. She didn't despise him for doing this to her, as she had a strange understanding why he'd pulled the trigger. Laurel knew the type of woman she was, what she did to a man, turning even the best ones into something they weren't. This man must have felt that this was right, to rid one horrifically sinful woman from his world.

Laurel started to cry as the pain and fear began to win over her resolve to stay conscious. The darkness wasn't comforting to her as it threatened to smother her with its eternal grasp. Even now she could feel the eerie chill as the abyss of death was ready to consume her where she'd forever be alone. There was only one source of hope to pull her free from her grueling fate, and he had left her. If he heard her, he would come. She knew it. He was loyal.

"Jess, save me, Jess," her whispered cries floated through the quiet land where a husband and wife had made camp on their way home after a long visit with the couple's new grandson. The shots had alarmed them both and they'd started a precautionary search in case there was someone in need. What they soon found, was a woman barely alive, clinging to an image of a face of a man she longed for that would rescue her from her impending death.

"She's trying to say something," Olivia Platte knelt down next to the injured woman, her hands immediately cradling her weary head and stroking her sweat dampened locks.

"It's a name," Horace Platte put his face close to the dying woman to try to hear. "I'd imagine she's trying to tell us who shot her."

Suddenly realizing she was no longer alone, Laurel's eyes fluttered opened, but her vision was blurred and everything kept going from dark to light, but what she was able to see sent a shockwave through her entire being. Blue eyes. Intense blue eyes that only belonged to one. Jess Harper!

"Who shot you?" Horace asked, and then when there wasn't a response that he could hear he turned his blue eyes to search his wife's gray ones and she bent her head low to the woman's mouth as he leaned farther back, sitting beside the fallen woman and tenderly picked up her hand in a fatherly gesture to give whatever comfort he could in her final moments.

"Jess Harper," Laurel whispered, although she wasn't even sure what the man that now stroked her hand had even asked, it was the name she wanted to say, needed to say, because she needed him. And those blue eyes that she saw told her that he was with her. She coughed, knowing this was it. She said his name again and again. If only she could have tasted his lips one more time. If only she could have ran her hand through his dark, luscious hair again. If only she had truly meant she'd loved him when she'd said it, and not just wanted him. If only he had loved her too, but he was too good, too loyal, too honorable. He would never love her, not with the true love that he was capable of giving. "Jess," there was one last raspy cry before the breath exited her lungs, the heart no longer beat, and Laurel DeWalt's life was gone.

"She's dead," Horace said softly, shaking his head in sorrow as he released the lifeless hand he'd held. "Could you hear her, Olivia?"

"Yes," Olivia wiped a tear that had slid down her nose as she turned to face her husband. "She said the name several times. There was no mistaking it at all. The man who killed this poor woman is named Jess Harper."

"Jess Harper," Horace repeated the name slowly, clenching his fist tight. "Whoever this evil villain is, he'll get what's coming to him. We'll get our wagon and take her body into the closest town. Hawthorn isn't far, I think. The sheriff there will handle the rest."

Not long into the next morning, the Platte's wagon rolled into Hawthorn, a small town in northern Wyoming Territory. With the sheriff's office their destination, Horace stopped in front of the sign that bore the lawman's name. After telling his wife to stay put, Horace entered the office, gave brief introductions and then hurried back out to his wagon.

Sheriff Holloway stepped up into the wagon and gently lifted the blanket over the dead woman's face. Every muscle in his body jerked as the recognition was instantaneous. Laurel DeWalt. The most beautiful, intoxicating, desirable woman he'd ever laid eyes on was dead. Even though she'd never given him any indication that she would be interested in him, in truth, they'd never actually spoken to one another, yet he still looked her way, hoping someday that he could do more than just smile. But he wasn't the only one that couldn't stop his stare when she was around. The DeWalt's didn't come into Hawthorn that often and when they did there wasn't a man in the entire town that didn't know about it. Every eye that could see would follow this woman wherever she walked. She had a sensual flair about the way she moved that caught every man's attention. Now the temptation would be no more. Sheriff Holloway replaced the covering and frowned, knowing that he'd just taken his final look.

"It's Laurel DeWalt," the sheriff told everyone that had gathered which brought on several seconds of gasps and tears. "She's been shot to death."

"She said the killer's name on her dying breath, Sheriff," Horace said with enthusiasm, glad that he could be of service to this lawman to catch the murderer. With the exception of his new grandson, not much happened in his life worth retelling and he felt a great sense of honor to play a role in this gruesome event that he could talk about for years to come.

"Who did it?" Sheriff Holloway asked through gritted teeth.

"Jess Harper."

"I've heard the name somewhere," Holloway squinted towards the bright sky, slightly shaking his head as the name didn't fully register. "Probably was already on a wanted poster before this. Well, he'll get what's coming to him, but right now, we need to get Mrs. DeWalt to the undertaker. You men there, help me, please."

"You need us for anything further, Sheriff? My wife and I still have over twenty miles to travel to get back to our home," Horace Platte patted his wife's hand as she was still shaken from watching Mrs. DeWalt die.

"I'll need to ask a few more questions and then you can be on your way," Sheriff Holloway said, "but it shouldn't take too much time. I'll be back shortly."

With the Platte's fully interviewed and on their way home, Sheriff Holloway stood outside his office with the reins of his horse in his hand. He was about to make the arduous journey to DeWalt's ranch to tell Arnold that his wife was dead. He'd want the name of the killer and he was glad he could produce it. The sheriff had already been to the telegraph office with instructions to send telegrams to every lawman within a fifty mile radius about the murderer Jess Harper on the loose. He'd be caught and with the testimony of the Platte's, Jess Harper would hang.

Holloway arrived at DeWalt's large ranch in the noon hour. Soon after he rode through the gate near the house, he saw Arnold DeWalt step from the front door with a man the sheriff remembered as being the Diamond D's foreman, George Hannah. He wouldn't call himself friends with either man, considering how few times he actually had met up with them. From what he understood, DeWalt often frequented several of the towns in the surrounding area of his ranch, not just his own Hawthorn.

After he dismounted and stood in front of the two men, Sheriff Holloway removed his hat and held it in his hands in a worried fashion as he turned it around and around. "I'm afraid I have bad news, Arnold,"

"What is it?" Arnold asked the sheriff who clearly looked stricken and somehow he knew the news before it was spoken.

"Laurel is dead. I'm so sorry, Arnold."

The first emotion Arnold DeWalt felt was shock, quickly followed by a strange twinge of relief, but then when he recalled her face the last time he saw her, his whole being was filled with so much remorse, his body started to physically shake. He felt George's hands firmly come onto him, one on his shoulder, the other on his arm and he nodded his acknowledgement to his friend, for without those hands he would have collapsed.

"How?" The word came out more of a croak than an audible word through Arnold's lips.

"She was murdered," Holloway said softly. "Shot to death last night."

"Why?" Another croak, followed by a single tear.

"I don't know," Sheriff Holloway shook his head sadly.

"I want the man that did this," Arnold said after clearing his throat, he clenched his teeth and tightened his hands into fists.

"The law will take care of him," Holloway promised, not wanting Arnold to take the matter into his own hands when he revealed the name of his wife's killer. "I have his name, and you can better believe I'll get him. He won't get away with murder."

"Who did it?" This came from George, who barely whispered the question.

"Jess Harper."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Jess Harper held his coffee cup to his lips and cringed as the bitter brew went down his throat. He should have made a new pot, and not just reheated the leftover batch from the morning. It was strong enough already at dawn, now it could have given him a knockout punch if he took a big enough swig. He took another small sip and then tossed the remainder on the ground. He should be getting to sleep anyway instead of mulling over a bad cup of coffee as a restful night hadn't met up with him for awhile, at least not since he'd left Slim's place a week before.

He had needed some time away from the ranch, not because he wasn't happy there anymore, but just to clear his mind, to help him refocus on his life and the good direction that it finally had taken. Yet that route to happiness hadn't come on a smooth clear road. It was full of rocks, ditches, bumps and nasty twists and turns. To put it plain, his past kept getting in the way. It was at work even now.

There was one part of his life that would always return, and just this week, it had come back with a mighty force. He felt it coming and as Jess had tried to not let anything else hinder his growth at the Sherman Ranch, he just pushed his emotions deep down inside of him, but they wouldn't stay buried. When he realized he was starting to get cross with Slim and Jonesy over minor things, he knew he hadn't fought his feelings hard enough. The last straw was when he almost exploded at Andy over something as simple as a misplaced tool. He needed to take a few days to be by himself. Fortunately, the stage line boss was on the next morning's stage with a job for Slim, but Jess volunteered his services before Slim could even say a word. He rode out less than an hour later. He quickly tended the business in Casper, wandered farther north and then let the rest of his trip be in solitude.

Jess dropped a couple of sticks onto his campfire and pulled his bedroll to be closer to the blazing heat and then lay down with his face away from the flames. He needed the warmth, he just didn't want to look at the fire. Staring into the flames with nothing on his mind but death would only make the memories worse. He'd seen a lot of death in his life, some that came from his own hand, but there was only one day of death that had haunted him for many years and would never stop as long as he lived. His family's. The anniversary date came on the second day he'd been camped.

This year had affected him more than the last several. The conclusion that came to Jess while he spent the day alone was that for all the years he'd spent since that tragic day in his fifteenth year, this was the first that he'd actually been in a real setting of home. He'd lost the only home he'd ever known, and hadn't had one since, until he found a home with Slim, Andy and Jonesy. The pain of loss had been magnified in its new setting. He didn't always take inner turmoil and pain well, and he didn't want his new family to see any more darkness in him than they already had.

Jess sighed and rolled over onto his back and looked up at the stars that had just started to take shape in the darkening sky. He'd spent the day remembering, as he always did, but now it was passed, and although he only felt a little relief from the onslaught of memories, he knew it was time to be getting back home before Slim started wondering about him. He had already decided that he was going to gather his pack at sunrise and head back to Laramie.

He put an arm over his eyes to hopefully welcome sleep sooner, but the sound of many men on horseback made Jess rise not long after. He had his gun in hand and a close eye to where his rifle rested as the brush broke open and what appeared to be a posse entered his camp. Seeing a sheriff made Jess relax his gun hand, but not enough to holster the weapon entirely.

"Sorry I ain't got more than some foul coffee on the fire," Jess pointed to the pot, thinking the men had sought out his fire for some rest.

"What's your name?" The sheriff asked, ignoring the invitation.

"Jess Harper." The moment he said it, every gun in the posse was pointed at him. Jess slowly dropped his gun into its holster, but it didn't stay there long. The sheriff's hand wrapped around the handle and had it tucked in his belt a moment later.

"What's this all about?" Jess asked harshly, pulling his eyebrows tight together that displayed the anger he was beginning to feel. He hated the feeling of being cornered, and here he was with twenty or more guns pointed at him which made him feel worse than being cornered.

"Don't try to play innocent," the sheriff answered tersely, "you know what you did."

"What am I supposed to have done?" Jess couldn't stop the edge from being in his voice.

"You murdered Laurel DeWalt."

"What?" Jess stared blankly at his campfire while the thoughts and emotions that came with the woman's memory rushed inside of him. Jess put his hand over his mouth, then trailed it down onto his neck where it stayed for a moment. If they thought he was the one who murdered her, then did they know that he and she were more than acquaintances? Jess took his eyes from the fire to look at the men who stared at him with hostility. Their scrutiny hit hard into him as the guilt of his past relationship with Laurel pricked at his entire body. He had hoped their past was truly past, and now he was thrust into this.

"You murdered Laurel DeWalt," the sheriff repeated, but this time it came out with such fire Jess felt the burn as if the words literally touched him.

"Wait," Jess held up his hands, not because there were a multitude of guns pointed at him, but because he needed this lawman to slow down. "I didn't kill Laurel. In fact, I haven't seen her in months."

"So you knew her?" The question bit through the air.

"Yeah, I did," Jess answered, knowing he'd have to be careful with what he chose to say lest he implicate himself further. "But as I said, I haven't seen her in months. Didn't want to, either."

"We know you did it," the sheriff said, sounding annoyed, "so why don't you just admit it?"

"Because I didn't do it!" Jess felt the explosion coming, but as long as he was unarmed, he knew the ignition likely wouldn't get all the way lit. "I've been camped here for the last four days. I haven't seen anyone in all that time until you all showed up so quit telling me what I did and didn't do!"

"So you admit to being near Hawthorn and the Diamond D these last few days."

"I just said I was here the whole time," Jess barked. This was getting him nowhere.

"Doing what?" The sheriff said almost in a teasing voice. "Were you out here picking flowers, catching insects, writing poetry, or were you plotting a murder?"

He didn't just feel like he'd been pushed into a corner anymore, but now Jess felt like he had been backed up against a wall. He hated that feeling even further, especially since he had no iron on his hip. "If you have to know," Jess said as both hands clenched open and closed in frustration, "I was out here because I wanted to be alone. I've been grieving the family I lost in a fire when I was a kid if it's any of your business, which it ain't."

"All these days you've been here crying?" The sheriff raised an eyebrow and two or more men in the posse let out a short laugh. "Sounds as likely as the flower picking scenario."

"Why you…" Jess bit his tongue to stop the words from spilling from his lips. The sheriff had his hand nearly on his chest so he didn't take the lunge that he wanted to at the man who apparently had no ounce of kindness in him.

"Hold up," the sheriff frowned, keeping his hand close to Harper's chest. "If it's as you say, then is there anyone in your family that can back up your claim? Somehow I feel the answer would be no, because you're lying."

That had done it. Jess grabbed the sheriff's arm that was outstretched towards him and pulled it behind the lawman's back. Jess pushed the sheriff away from him and as the man turned, he was ready to strike. Men from the posse leapt from their horses and had their hands on Jess before he could take a good swing at the sheriff. With two men holding his arms tight behind his back, the sheriff gave him a scathing look.

"You just proclaimed your own guilt, Harper. You're under arrest for the murder of Laurel DeWalt. Keep a hand on him, boys."

Those "boys" might have had a chance, but they didn't have a hold of any ordinary man. The anger that pumped through Jess' veins was enough to break free from their firm grasp. Once loose, he put a fist into the closest man's face and his foot fount the stomach of another. He knew he was highly outnumbered, but he was going to give this fight a valiant effort. He threw a stout punch in the jaw of one of the men that had held him that sent him reeling into another, and then Jess turned and faced the sheriff head on. He was ready to spring on top of the man when someone dropped their clasped fist onto the back of his neck. Jess staggered, not ready to go down just yet, but the second blow came from the butt of a pistol, and he went out like a light.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Jess awoke, not on a bunk, but lying on a cold, hard floor. He put his hand to the back of his head and groaned. Opening his eyes into slits, he saw the bars that enclosed him and he remembered everything in a flash. Laurel was dead. He was accused.

Jess pulled himself to his feet, only swaying once with a wave of dizziness as his head hadn't liked the swift change of position. There wasn't a lot of pain and he could see straight, so he figured the wound wasn't severe. He placed his hands on the bars and gave them a little shake, proving to himself that the door was solidly locked. The jiggling noise brought the sheriff's eyes onto him, who sat at his desk writing.

"You've got it all wrong, Sheriff, sorry, I don't know your name."

"Holloway."

"Sheriff Holloway," Jess began again, "you've got this all wrong, every which way you look at it is wrong."

"I looked through your wallet," Sheriff Holloway stood, taking Jess' wallet from his desk and then stepped to be in front of Jess. "I see you've had quite the unlawful past. But you were pardoned? The judge that made that decision will regret it now, I'm sure."

"That was a long time ago," Jess shook his head as he reached for the wallet that was held too far from his reach.

"I see you're working in Laramie," Holloway sifted through Jess' wallet again as he spoke. "Do you think your boss knows what you've been up to?"

"With my boss, Slim Sherman's full knowledge, I was doing business for the Great Central Overland stage line," Jess said in his defense.

"But you said out there," Holloway pointed, indicating where Jess had been found, "that you were grieving your family. I guess you can't keep your stories straight."

"It was both," Jess said, his agitation clearly evident. "Just send a wire to Laramie to prove that I was on stage business. The other, well, that's my own personal business."

"Oh, I've already sent a wire to the sheriff in Laramie," Holloway nodded.

"You did?" Jess asked, feeling hopeful. Mort Cory would let Slim know, perhaps they'd both hightail it to this shady town to rescue him at daylight. "Then everything's gonna be all right."

"For who? You?" Holloway nearly laughed, "quite the opposite, actually. Your trial is set to start the day after tomorrow. When you're found guilty, you'll quickly find out that nothing's going to be all right with you ever again."

"Why so sudden?" Jess asked, referring to his trial.

"Why not?" The sheriff shrugged his shoulders almost exaggeratingly. "This isn't just a normal killing you're accused of. You killed a woman. The way the town and I look at it is, you're guilty, so, why wait? The sooner justice is served the better."

"I'm not guilty of her murder," Jess continued, his voice rising with each word. "Why won't you listen to me?"

"Scream at the walls for a while, Harper," Holloway walked towards the door, getting ready to exit. "I'm done listening."

"Holloway!" Jess shouted after the lawman left and shook the barred door hard. "You've gotta listen to me! Holloway, come back here! I didn't do it! I didn't kill Laurel!"

It was her name that sent the shockwave through him that made his mouth snap shut and his hands release from the bars. He sat down on his bunk, the defeat crawling up his spine, clutching around his chest and then filling his mind with an overwhelming emotion of frustration.

Laurel was dead, and although he felt the familiar pain of loss, it didn't strike him like a deafening blow when someone you truly cared about was gone. He had no feelings of Laurel left to give, so grief wasn't going to be offered now. But he still remembered, although in truth, it was only her death that had resurfaced the memories. Before this, he hadn't given her any thought since he and Slim rode away together as she sat atop her horse, the rejection by the men in her life clearly evident on her face. Now, his thoughts returned to the day she reentered his life, one by one they came, until he could play the scenes in his mind and hear every word that was said all over again.

"I was a jack-fool all right," Jess said out loud, shaking his head. "And she loved every minute of making me into one."

Jess realized looking back that he should have known that Laurel had other plans than what she'd first stated after she stepped from the stagecoach. She'd probably been lying to him with her first few words. If she'd really sent men after him to find him, they would have found him. He'd done plenty of work around Laramie, his name and fame hadn't taken long to spread. In just a few weeks after his arrival, Roany Bishop knew to come to the Sherman Relay Station. His brother-in-law certainly knew. Both his and Slim's name had been in the paper after the incident with the Pawnee's when Chief Yellow Knife's son, Taka, was killed. No, there hadn't been any men hired by Laurel.

If that hadn't been enough, something else she said should have triggered his senses to send off alarms. She hadn't been traveling in search for him, it was only coincidence that she got off the stage where he worked, he'd plainly told her that as he'd fought with his inner turmoil at seeing her, something he'd truly hoped he'd never have had to do again. Then she said she was going to Mexico and if he'd ever loved her, he should take her there. But then it suddenly changed to Tumavaca, a place she'd heard about. Heard from who? Was it really that pretty that it was the only place they could run to, if she really meant as she said, it being a good place for them to start over? Of all the towns in Mexico, Tumavaca was small, fairly desolate, with nothing there to offer a new start. He should have known. If only he hadn't been so blindsided by their past, he could have seen her duplicity and heartlessness.

And yet, despite the blame he could have placed entirely on Laurel, he knew she wasn't solely responsible. He shared the fault, therefore he felt the guilt. He could have said no to her, should have said no to her, but he let his feelings overpower what he knew was right instead. Even on the trail he should have ignored her, but he couldn't. The way she looked at him, wanting him, was all a ruse. He knew it deep inside, that's why he said the way she looked at him made him think she was laughing at him. Laurel was, despite her response, just only on the inside. She was laughing as they'd kissed, yet he'd allowed the passion, laughing as they'd flirted along the stream, yet he'd enjoyed every moment, wanting more, and she would have probably kept laughing at him if they hadn't been interrupted, and there his desires died.

The dawning revelation started to hit him when Laurel demanded he kill the men that followed them. First he'd been so mad, and yes, even embarrassed to have been caught that his reaction was to put up a good defense, but seeing Laurel's response, hearing the men's words, the questions she wouldn't answer started to weigh heavily on his mind. He was responsible for her safety, so when the mysterious shots against their pursuers started, Jess had taken the chance for escape, but only momentarily, because he needed answers from Laurel.

Her face was the first change he noticed in her when his tone became more abrupt. She looked at him with cold, harsh eyes that snapped with callousness. Every word she said tore a little more of him into pieces until she said the final blow. She had only been using him to get what she really wanted: Someone else.

" _He_ makes me feel like a woman," Laurel's reference to Montero Rios made the blinders he'd put over his eyes fall to the ground once and for all. For the first time he truly looked at her and what he saw wasn't a seductive beauty at all, but a wicked, brazen jezebel.

His returned comment to her brought her hand up to slap his face, but he'd caught her hand mid-slap. How he'd wanted to break that arm, instead he'd just let it drop. It was completely over for him the moment the truth was revealed. He'd slapped her arms with force when he told her to mount up and that they were going back. Laurel was ready for it to be over too, but her idea of their ending was greatly different. Out of the corner of his eye he'd seen her aim her gun at him after he topped his horse, but didn't have time to react when one of the bounty hunters DeWalt had put on their trail pulled the trigger on him instead. As he'd fallen to the ground, he saw her ride away, but didn't call her back. There was no point, because it was over between them forever. Everything else might have been over for him too, but then Slim unexpectedly rode in and they moved onward to Tumavaca together.

Sheriff Holloway returned, interrupting his memories with a plate of cold beans and a hard biscuit that he set on a stool in front of his cell. "You can eat it through the bars," he said with his hand up to stop Jess from speaking in response. "But that's all you get to do. I don't want to hear any more out of you and neither will my deputy that will relieve me in an hour. So eat what's in front of you and then shut up."

Jess didn't want to do either and promptly shoved the unappealing meal as far away as he could through the bars. But the words, rather his thoughts, would not be silenced. He might not have vocalized them any further to the lawman or his deputy that did take over duty promptly an hour later, but there was no shortage of discussions and memories filling his mind as he kept it focused on the Tumavaca trail. Over and over he relived the events until he was suddenly stopped by one of the harshest questions he'd thrown at himself.

What had being with Laurel almost cost him? It went beyond the possibility of losing the Sherman ranch as his home and perhaps the friendship that went with it. When he learned of Slim and Andy being threatened by the men DeWalt had hired to find her, he had felt a different type of guilt form inside of him. It would have ripped his guts out if his own actions had been the cause of harm to Andy. His friendship with Slim was far more important than a relationship with a woman, unless it was the right woman, and he had come to learn that Laurel had never been the right woman for him. The cost of Laurel could have been staggering then, and now, it could end up costing his life.

But sadly, it probably wouldn't stop there. He wasn't a down on his luck drifter anymore. He was part of a family. That family was one he'd come to cherish, and they felt the same for him. If he was found guilty and sentenced to hang, Jess knew he wouldn't be leaving this earth without those he cared mostly about paying the heaviest price, a lifetime of grief and pain. Jess felt more guilt now as the faces of Jonesy, Andy and Slim entered his mind.

"Slim," Jess barely spoke aloud, wondering how Slim would respond to the news of his arrest. "I'm really in trouble now, Pard."

Jess turned his thoughts away from Laurel, letting the memories of Slim fill his mind instead, how he came riding in after Jess was shot, gently tending to his wound and helping him to his feet. He didn't force him to go home, but stayed by his side, ready to pursue Jess' new enemy. They'd taken on that bounty hunter rather recklessly, as sometimes Jess' ideas were, but it had worked, because they had taken it on together. Without Slim's help, he knew he would have never had made it that far, and never would have made it back home.

Slim had a strange way of showing up just when Jess needed him the most. Sitting alone in his jail cell, Jess hoped with all that was in him that it would happen once more.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Slim Sherman stood just outside of his ranch house, hands on his hips as he watched the small figure far to the west get closer. The first sign of a rider approaching brought his thoughts to Jess, already overdue from his trip north, but it wasn't long before the man on horseback became clearer and he knew the incoming rider wasn't Jess at all, but Mort Cory instead. Slim usually would have been happy to see his friend coming for a visit, but today, something just seemed abnormal and Slim found himself preparing for trouble.

"I don't like the expression on your face, Mort," Slim watched the Laramie sheriff dismount his horse and walk to where Slim stood, moving slowly and with his facial lines in their troubled positions. "Something must be wrong."

"I wish I could tell you I was just suffering from a bad case of indigestion," Mort shook his head sadly, "but what it really is all about, is so much worse."

"What is it, Mort?" Slim asked, instinctively thinking of Jess. Whatever was wrong, he somehow already knew it involved Jess.

Mort took a deep breath, knowing there was no other way to say it, but abrupt and to the point. "Laurel DeWalt was killed two days ago and last night, Jess was arrested for her murder up in Hawthorn."

Slim recognized the name immediately, remembering exactly who she was, her wicked ways and how she'd used Jess on her flight to Tumavaca after she'd shot her husband. Jess had been willing to give up everything for her when she'd arrived at the ranch a few months earlier, but when the truth came to light, showing Jess her true personality, as ugly as it was, he walked away from her and their past forever. And now she was dead. But despite everything that she'd done to him, even threatening to shoot Jess for his abrupt change when he learned of her duplicity, Jess would not have killed her, Slim was positive of that.

"Jess wouldn't kill her," Slim said with certainty.

"Unfortunately," Mort shook his head sadly, "someone says he did. If there's any evidence to dispute that, or confirm it, I need to know. Slim, you might be the only one that can do that."

"You mean," Slim paused his thought, not wanting to even say it out loud, "something I might say about Jess could convict him?"

"Or save him," Mort added quickly.

Slim looked up towards the sky, thinking over every detail that happened before Jess had rode away on stage business. For a few days he'd been a little touchy, sometimes being downright irritable as if something was nagging on his mind and when the stage line boss came by with a job that would have normally been for Slim, Jess quickly volunteered. He hadn't needed an explanation from Jess as to what might have been going on, if Jess wanted him to know, he would have told. But the thoughts started nagging on Slim's mind, if there was any connection, but he quickly dismissed them. He had no reason to doubt Jess, even if he was as mean tempered as a rattlesnake ready to strike sometimes.

"If you know anything that could help with this case, you better tell me." Mort looked down at his boots momentarily and sighed. He knew this wasn't going to be an easy task when he'd received the telegram concerning Jess, and it was quickly becoming more difficult for him with each word that he spoke to Slim. "I need you to be honest with me, Slim, don't withhold any facts that you might know."

"Like what?" Slim asked quietly, not wanting to fully divulge what he knew, lest it make Jess look guiltier, but he also knew he couldn't withhold everything, especially not to Mort. Maybe if Mort specifically had a question he could answer, it would help, not hurt.

"Where was he going? How long has he been gone? How did he act before he left?" Mort looked closely at Slim's face for any sign of a telltale expression of truth. "Mostly, did he say anything to you about seeing Mrs. DeWalt?"

"No," Slim shook his head, grateful for that information that he could truthfully give, "he wasn't going to see her. Jess went up north to Casper for stage business, not personal. It's true he volunteered to go, and yes, he's been gone a few days longer than he was supposed to return, but you know Jess, he still gets the itch to wander free and easy like he did before coming here, so his eagerness to travel or a delay on the trail doesn't mean anything."

"Casper isn't all that far south from Hawthorn, which is on the road to the Diamond D, DeWalt's ranch," Mort said plainly.

"Mort," Slim said sharply, "surely you don't think Jess is guilty!"

"I don't believe that he killed Mrs. DeWalt," Mort spoke softly, revealing his true feelings. "Personally, I can't see Jess being a murderer, especially killing a woman. However, with this badge I wear, I can't always go on my own personal feelings. The law says he's guilty and unfortunately since there's no evidence to prove his innocence, I have to stand by the law. I'm afraid there's nothing more I can do to change what the law has already declared."

"Then there's got to be something wrong with the law," Slim huffed.

"Slim," Mort put his hand on Slim's shoulder. "I know this is difficult news to bear and I'm truly sorry I had to be the one to bring it. I was really hoping there'd be something you knew that would prove Jess was innocent, but…"

"Jess is innocent," Slim interrupted with firmness.

"But," Mort continued, "since there is no evidence to confirm that fact, I have to do my duty to send a wire to Sheriff Holloway. Are you sure there isn't anything you've forgotten to tell me?"

"There was a letter that came for Jess the other day," Slim suddenly remembered Mose handing the envelope to him, grinning like a schoolboy because he just knew it was from some pretty gal that wanted to woo Jess. Slim had just shrugged off Mose's guess, but now he was just as curious as the old stage driver had been. "I'll go get it."

Slim walked into the bedroom where he'd left the letter for Jess on his bed that had been unused for the last week. He picked up the paper, stamped by the post office in an unrecognizable town somewhere in Wyoming and with a deep sigh that showed his great reluctance in whatever he was about to find inside, Slim tore the envelope open. He only had to read the first line that made something in his chest lurch and the color drain from his face. He slowly dropped down to sit on the bed as his knees suddenly felt weak and the letter floated down to rest near the pillow. Slim briefly put his hands over his face, not wanting to continue reading, but knowing that he had to, he picked up the letter from where it fell. With his top teeth biting into his bottom lip, he began to read.

 _My dearest Jess, ever since you left me near Tumavaca, I can't get you out of my mind. You are the only man I want. I realize you might not feel the same about me. Please don't hate me, I couldn't live with that hatred. I love you, Jess. If you feel anything for me at all, please come for me. I'm on my way to the Diamond D. I hope to see you there. Yours forever, Laurel._

"Slim," Mort stood just inside the bedroom door, watching as Slim fought with his emotions, the letter open in his hands. "Whatever it says, good or bad, you best give it to me."

Slim looked up at Mort, not knowing when the man had even approached as he'd never even heard the footsteps enter the house. He handed Mort the letter and watched the frown grow on Mort's mouth as he read.

"This doesn't prove anything," Slim quickly said in Jess' defense. "This letter didn't come until after Jess left, he didn't even see it."

"Were there others?"

"No!" Slim shouted, then dropped his eyes apologetically as he continued in a much quieter tone. "I don't read his mail, but I'm positive Jess would have told me if he had heard from her before this."

"Do you mind if I look?" Mort asked, stepping towards the drawer where Jess kept his things.

"Go ahead," Slim nodded, knowing that Mort wouldn't find anything, but the fear crept around his chest nevertheless that he might be mistaken.

Mort found three envelopes underneath Jess' extra underclothes. Opening each one, Mort scanned through them quickly, dropping them one by one back where he found them as he finished.

"None from her."

"Doesn't that mean anything?" Slim asked, the look of hope shining in his eyes.

"I'm afraid not," Mort shook his head sadly. "This one here speaks loud enough."

"So you'll use that to point more evidence at Jess?" Slim asked, and then turned his tone to more of a plea. "You can't Mort. Jess didn't read this. I shouldn't have even read it."

"I suppose I can pretend the seal was never broke," Mort rubbed his chin. "Unless I'm directly asked if Jess had any correspondence from Mrs. DeWalt, then I'll have to mention it."

"Thanks Mort," Slim sighed. "That makes me breathe a little easier."

"I'll still have to send a wire to Sheriff Holloway as soon as I return to Laramie. I have no choice, though, to mention that I have no evidence to point to Jess' innocence," Mort held up his hand to stop Slim from interrupting as Slim had begun to open his mouth to protest. "However, I will also say in length that I believe Jess to be a good man, one that I would trust with my very life. It might not mean much, but I want my voice to be heard."

"All right, Mort," Slim touched Mort's shoulder as he looked into his eyes with genuine appreciation. "I've never been to Hawthorn, but I guess I'll be heading up there to help Jess."

"Slim, there's something you need to know about that town. There's a Territorial Judge that lives about seven miles from Hawthorn so trials up there usually come pretty quick after an arrest is made, especially so in an open and shut case such as this one. They do that to keep the citizens from creating an uproar that leads to a lynching."

"So you're saying I need to hurry," Slim swallowed hard after saying his words as fear began to push up on his throat.

"Yes," Mort nodded. "I'm afraid I can't come along with you as duties keep me here. But if you want to see Jess before," Mort paused, unable to say the words out loud, "well, you must leave at once."

"I'll leave as fast as I can," Slim strode towards the corral to get Alamo and then stopped, turning back towards Mort. "What about Jonesy and Andy? They were in town today and won't be back until dark."

"I saw them as I headed out here," Mort rubbed the back of his neck in thought. "I can tell Jonesy for you."

"Not everything," Slim shook his head. "I don't want Andy to know what's really going on. Just tell Jonesy that I left to help Jess."

"I'll do that," Mort nodded, "and Slim?"

"Yeah?"

"Bring that boy safely home," Mort's voice cracked at the word _home_.

Slim found a smile and looked at Mort, seeing in him not just a sheriff that wore a star who had to go by the laws of justice, but seeing a true friend, who genuinely cared about Jess and his fate.

"I'll do everything that I can to do just that," Slim promised and in his heart he added another _everything_.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The cell was cold. The nights in Wyoming often saw the temperatures falling fairly rapidly after sunset that left anyone without proper cover shivering. But there in the jail cell, as Jess pulled the thin blanket with its fair share of moth holes closer to his chin, he figured he'd be warmer out under the stars. There was no comfort, no peace, no security in this place which made the chill penetrate even deeper inside of him.

Jess turned over on his bunk, the movement instantly catching the attention of the deputy on guard. Jess glanced at the young man wearing a star, but turned his head away when the deputy gave him a look that was icier than the cell he was in. It was the same look he'd received earlier in the day, not only from the deputy, but from the entire courtroom during his trial.

He could still picture every detail of what happened clearly in his mind, still hear every sentence that was said, from the moment he walked in wearing cuffs, to the moment he walked out, wearing the same cuffs locked on his wrists. When the trial had begun, in his heart he still harbored hope that there would be evidence to prove his innocence and that he'd walk out the doors of that courtroom free and clear, but that was a hope that would never be fulfilled.

The courtroom was filled to capacity, but there were two seats in the front row saved for the grieving widower Arnold DeWalt and his best friend and foreman, George Hannah. Jess hadn't been seated for long when he knew the presence of the prominent landowner had entered the room. The whispers increased from corner to corner and Jess turned to view the two men walk side by side down the aisle. He made eye contact with DeWalt first, and should have turned away after the sinister stare was returned, but then looked into the face of Hannah, and saw something flicker that he couldn't define. Jess turned to face the front as the judge entered the room. He stood with the rest of the crowd and then reseated.

"Now I know who he is," George Hannah suddenly stood up, pointing at Jess. "He used to work on the Diamond D. He was no stranger to Mrs. DeWalt," the eyes narrowed, piercing into Jess as his words tore through his soul as the meaning of his words rang loud and clear, "she knew him _very_ well, I'm sure."

Jess had dropped his head a notch lower while the whispers and sneers rumbled through the courtroom after George's declaration, looking down at his clasped hands. Back on the trail outside of Tumavaca it had been Slim that had detoured George's questioning thoughts about where he'd seen Jess before. With Laurel riding in only a moment later, George hadn't given him another thought about who he was. But now that the recognition had been made, the guiltier he looked to everyone in the room, especially to DeWalt and Hannah.

It had taken a few minutes for the judge to regain order of the court, but when all was silent again, the trial proceeded. There were two key witnesses, a husband and wife who were by the side of Laurel when she died that were called to the stand after the prosecutor had spoken in length how such a beautiful life was taken at the hands of someone as vile as he. The slandering statements were far from true, but the skilled wordsmith knew how to wrap a jury around his finger and made a poignant sight as he turned to point that finger at the guilty man, Jess Harper.

Jess felt all alone in his defense. True, the town had provided a lawyer for him, but the suited man himself had said that Jess didn't have a chance after their first introductions, so there would be no reason for him to put much effort into the case. Jess had just looked at the man and slowly shook his head, wondering if he would have been better off without a fancy pants lawyer.

The testimonies were given, one in a tearful account, the other showing much contempt as he nearly spat Jess' name as he recounted how Laurel DeWalt said the name of her killer on her dying breath. Who would think that someone with little life left in them would lie about who had pulled the trigger? Who would think that this couple would have made up the story? How else would they know his name if Laurel hadn't said it? If those questions had been on the minds of any of the jury members, they'd quickly found an answer, for the deliberation lasted less than five minutes.

Jess turned to look at the jury, knowing what was going to be said before it was spoken. But a man stood anyway, almost smiling with the verdict. "We find the defendant, Jess Harper, guilty of murder."

"Sheriff Holloway, bring the prisoner here in front of me," the judge commanded, pushing his spectacles closer to his eyes as Jess slowly made his way in front of him. "Jess Harper, you have been found guilty of murder in the first degree as charged. Such a crime as heinous as this deserves the strictest of punishments. Therefore I declare, tomorrow morning at dawn that you will be taken from your jail cell where you will hang by the neck until dead. And may God have mercy on your soul."

God was always merciful, but it was the people that weren't. He'd never heard a crowd cheer before at the pronouncement of an execution until his own. Was he really viewed as being someone so vile? What would he see if he were a spectator and not the man standing before a judge that had just sentenced him to die? Jess knew there would be two emotions that would outweigh any joy in what he'd feel: Pity and sorrow. It was too bad there had been no one else in the room that would have felt the same way.

It had been a difficult task to go into that courtroom alone, but to exit it was much harder. Now he was condemned to die. He'd heard those declarations before and often wondered what the guilty man had felt, but he had never expected how horrible the sentencing actually felt until it had happened to him.

The sheriff handled him roughly as he led him back to the jail, stopping only once along the way to point to the place where the gallows would be built and said not too sweetly that he'd get to listen to every board get nailed into place. The sheriff didn't care how callous his remarks came across, but as a man that didn't seem to mince his words, he wouldn't have given them a second thought. He spoke just as sharply from the witness stand after he had taken the oath. The sheriff had remembered every detail of Jess' capture, how he was alone on the trail with no alibi at the time of the murder, and most importantly, how he exploded in anger and fought against his arrest. "Guilt brings the temper out in a man," was the prosecutor's response.

"My temper," Jess said under his breath as his eyes focused again on the cold cell that imprisoned him, "Slim always said it'd be my end someday."

Slim. Jess put his hands over his face and inhaled deeply to keep the choking feeling in his throat from emitting a sound from his mouth. How could he die without talking to Slim? But his sentence had already been declared. In the morning he would die, without ever talking to Slim again.

Jess stood and walked to the barred window. It was late and darkness was all around, but for some strange reason, as there must have been a light from a window casting a ray in the direction of the gallows, he could see the rope and its perfect loop clearly. It was a formidable sight, but even worse how it'd feel, something that he already knew.

Jess had a rope around his neck before, but this was the first time he had actually been sentenced to die by a court of law. Back in Texas he had been framed by the McCanles gang which went so far as having the rope readied for him, but a lawman had rode into town just in time and had him released, as he had the evidence to put the McCanles gang behind bars for good, that is, if they'd ever get caught. There was another time, also in Texas, but this one had been a lynch mob after him. The rope had been pulled so tight he had been left with a burn after an unknown man riding through cut him free. He had searched a long time to repay that man for what he'd done to save his life, and now that certain death awaited him, Jess would never be able to repay that debt. Jess had lived a wild life, but after he put it behind him, he never expected to be facing a rope again. But there it was, just outside the walls.

The door creaked open and Jess wasn't surprised to see that it was a preacher coming to call. The hour was late, nearing midnight, but perhaps the man that now stood in front of him figured it was the perfect time for whatever he had on his mind.

"I'm not afraid to die," Jess spoke out first, which brought a surprised look from the preacher's face.

"That's quite noble of you, considering," the preacher said as he pulled out a Bible from under his arm. "I'd like to tell you something nevertheless, about what this book says about the fate of sinners."

"I know what the Bible says. I may not carry it with me everywhere I go like you do, but I know the words well enough, my Ma saw fit to that." Jess said, also thinking of his recent trip he'd taken with Father Elliott when he led him to Yellowstone to meet with Sitting Bull. That entire journey with that righteous man had helped change his perspective on a few things in life, but he didn't deem it necessary to add out loud now.

Jess could tell the preacher wanted to speak again, but he wasn't finished with what he had to say as he would rather be the one that did all of the talking instead. He looked the preacher in the eye and continued. "I'm no angel, wouldn't even pretend to be. I reckon God knows my name all right, just as I reckon he's the only one that knows I'm an innocent man. You're just wasting your time on me. You should be out preaching to this town, preaching to the sheriff, preaching to Arnold DeWalt, or preaching to the man who really did kill his wife because I ain't the one who needs your sinner's talk."

"You shouldn't be so high handed with everyone, especially the preacher," the deputy strode towards his cell and wagged his finger at Jess. "After all, the preacher's probably the only man in town that'll have anything halfway nice to say about you after you're dead."

Jess dropped to his bunk and rubbed his hands over his face. _After you're dead_. The words of the deputy continued to ring through his mind even after the preacher exited and the deputy returned to his seat behind the sheriff's desk. This was all so wrong, Jess thought, feeling a bitter taste form in his mouth making him want to spit. He removed his hands from his face and saw the deputy still eyeing him so he shut his eyes to block the view, although even with them closed, he could still see the building that confined him.

Jess had already studied the sheriff's office soon after his arrival, noting every detail down to the last nook and cranny. The room was quite small, although he'd yet been in one that would have been called stately in size, this one in particular was definitely more compact. The main door was situated in the middle of the wall facing the street, with the sheriff's desk immediately to the left as a person would walk in. The two small cells lined the right wall which met in a corner with a back door that led into an alley that would have made an easily accessible escape route.

Escape. The word played around in Jess' mind like it was a brand new word that he'd never heard before. He knew he could do it if he had the perfect opportunity, after all, the west was full of men, guilty and innocent, that had successfully completed their escape. Why shouldn't his name be added to the list?

It wasn't fear twisting in his gut that brought these feelings, the desires to run from his death penalty. He was willing to die in the right situation. He'd risked his life time and again, for friends, family, even strangers. But he wasn't ready to let his life go for a false accusation. Not like this, not by a rope, not for Laurel and not without Slim.

The silence in the room became extremely oppressive and Jess' nerves were being pulled as tight as they could be wound. The clock on the wall, making the only sound he could hear seemed to get louder with each tick. He laid down on his bunk and closed his eyes with the sound of the ticking becoming more like a hammering inside of his head, with each tick, each thud, making the words throb in his mind every second for the next twenty seconds. Slim. I've. Got. To. Talk. To. Slim. Don't. Want. To. Die. Like. This. Slim. Escape. Slim. Escape. Slim. Escape. Slim.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Jess opened his eyes at a soft knock on the sheriff's office door and watched as a scantily clad saloon girl sashayed into the room. Her shiny pink lips formed a smile as she saw the deputy and seeing the reaction on the deputy's face, Jess knew instantly that these two must be an item.

"Rick, honey," the girl ran her fingers through her curly, dark locks, "must I keep waiting for you to come over for a drink?"

"I can't right now, Polly," the deputy gestured with his head towards the cells. "You know I've got to watch the prisoner."

"I'd rather you be watching me," Polly winked, twirling a ribbon on her short skirt.

"Me too," the deputy sighed.

"Then come with me," Polly clasped her hand onto the deputy's arm. "We don't have to be gone long."

"I don't know, Polly," the deputy shook his head. "I shouldn't leave the prisoner."

"What can he do?" Polly shrugged her shoulders. "He's locked in a cell asleep. He's going to die come morning, so he won't be able to tattle on us."

"Polly…"

"Please," the plea was whispered, followed by a kiss to the air as she turned to the door.

Jess put his eyes to a slit as the deputy looked over at him, using those seconds to ensure in the deputy's mind that he was sound asleep. Satisfied, the deputy turned to follow his pretty girl out the door. As soon as the door was closed, Jess stood, his hands wrapping around the bars that blocked him from freedom. He could see the keys to his cell perched on the corner of the desk and the temptation to flee intensified.

"Well if you're gonna give it to me," Jess said aloud, trying to gauge the span between his cell door and the keys. "I'm gonna go ahead and take."

Jess pulled his boots from his feet and removed one of the spurs, letting it fall to the floor with a clink. He grabbed the flimsy pillow from the bed and removed its outer case, tearing the thin cloth into strips and then tossed the flat pillow back where it belonged, where it landed against the wall. With a hasty glance at the sheriff's office door and a quick thought that he hoped the deputy's girlfriend had more than one drink planned, Jess unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants to the ground.

Tying one end of his belt to the loop on his pants with a strip of cloth, he then proceeded to secure his spur to the buckle end of his belt. Pulling the ends tight, he laid his makeshift rope in front of him, and as he glanced back towards the keys on the desk, Jess knew it didn't have enough length. He quickly removed his shirt and tied the arms to the legs of his pants to make up for the extra span.

Jess tugged on each tied portion once more to make sure it felt secure enough to toss, and then he dropped to one knee to prepare for his aim. He had just picked up the spur end of his line when his body tensed in alarm. Heavy footsteps hitting the boardwalk were becoming louder and louder as each step brought whoever was outside closer to the jail.

Jess looked down at his bare skin and held his breath. What a sight he would make if he was about to be caught as he was crouched in his jail cell nearly naked. He had nothing on but faded red underwear that had been cut off just above the knee and a pair of socks that at one time had been white that had a hole large enough that his big toe stuck out through the tear. Goosebumps covered his arms and chest, but despite the cold temperatures his body was reacting from, a single drop of sweat trickled down his face and landed on his knee in trepidation of being discovered.

The footsteps reached his destination, but didn't stop at the sheriff's office, bringing a relieved sigh from Jess' mouth. He stayed unmoving until the steps continued to fade as it took the outside traveler farther away. Only after the sound went completely silent did he feel secure enough to begin his attempt to swipe the keys off the desk.

Jess held the spur up to his eye until it was in a straight line with the keys on the desk. He had always had a knack for hitting whatever he was aiming at. Whether it was throwing rocks, horseshoes, lariats, or just his hat, he almost always hit his mark. It was a skill he had accomplished as a young child, trying to keep up with his siblings, and it had only been perfected as he'd matured into manhood.

Jess bit his bottom lip and threw the spur. It sailed through the air and missed the key ring by an inch. Undaunted, Jess pulled on his shirt, bringing the pants, belt and spur back to him. Again, he clearly marked his aim, but this time he moved his finger a little lower onto his spur to put less tension on the metal. He tossed the spur and it clanked loudly in the quiet room as it made contact with the keys. With a slight tug, Jess pulled the keys to the floor and felt his mouth curl upwards into a smile when the spur stayed firmly attached to the key ring. Inch by inch he pulled them across the floor until his hand was able to reach through the bars and wrap around the key that would lead him to his freedom. He had the door unlocked only a moment later.

Jess had his pants and belt back in place quickly and as he buttoned his shirt, Jess stepped silently in his socked feet to the sheriff's desk where he pulled from the bottom drawer his gun belt and pistol. Securing his weapon to his hip, Jess stood still briefly, eyes on the office door, feeling the security that wearing a gun again had immediately brought to him. His hat was the next thing to grab, and then his boots were back on his feet as he closed the cell door that had caged him.

Jess twirled the key ring around his finger once, then twice, as a twinge of mischievousness tickled him. He locked the cell door, then placed the keys exactly where they'd been sitting on the corner of the sheriff's desk before he'd escaped.

"That'll keep 'em guessing," Jess said quietly, then opened the rear door of the sheriff's office and completed his escape.

He walked stealthily away from the jail, keeping himself hidden from all the dimly lit windows across town. Since he'd been unconscious as he'd first entered Hawthorn and thrust directly into the jail, Jess didn't know where every building in town was located, especially the most important one at the moment, the livery where his horse was hopefully stalled. As he'd walked to and from the courthouse earlier, he scolded himself that he hadn't taken a mental note of the layout of town because now he needed to know. Jess paused in an alleyway to get his bearings, looking far as he could see to his right and to his left. The saloon was an easy building to pick out of all the rest, only a couple of businesses to his right, and since it was there that the deputy likely lodged, he needed to keep himself as far away as possible from it.

Slinking back around into the darkest shadows, Jess followed behind what must have been a feed store until his nose caught the scent of horses, mixed with the acridity of a blacksmith shop. Knowing he was close, he crouched behind a feed bin and saw the opening of the livery stable across the street. It would take too long to backtrack to get across the street in a more secluded place, so if he really wanted his mount, he had no choice. He would have to cross, being wide open for any nightwalker to see.

Jess saw no one except for what appeared to be a drunkard wobbling along the boardwalk near the saloon. Taking a quick breath, Jess darted across the barren street and slipped behind the livery barn. Inching along the side of the large building, Jess felt the handle of a door and tugged gently, breathing a sigh of relief when it started to slide. Entering, he found the room was pitch black. Only by sounds of tail swishing and the aroma of hay gave any indication that he was in the correct place.

Hoping there was no one on nightly duties asleep up in the loft, Jess gave a whispered call, "Trav?"

His horse nickered almost instantly, just a few short feet in front of him. Jess entered Traveler's stall, running his hand over his companion's back in a reassuring touch. As soon as Jess reached his head, Traveler reached forward and touched Jess' neck with his nose. Jess responded to the touch with a scratch behind an ear. Turning, Jess reached for his gear, but his horse wasn't finished showing his affection, for Traveler softly nuzzled his master then draped his head over Jess' shoulder.

"Aw, that's a good fellow," Jess rubbed his faithful friend, feeling a lump form in this throat, "I missed you, too. I bet you're ready to ride, huh? Me too."

Jess gave Traveler's neck another gentle pat and then he proceeded to saddle him. Finished with that task, he led his horse through the side door of the livery that he had entered and with a quick glance to the quiet street, he hopped into the saddle and walked Traveler quietly out of town. There, he picked up the pace and felt his horse come alive beneath him with a steady rhythm that took him swiftly away from the people that had condemned him, the jail that had confined him and the noose that waited to kill him.

Jess didn't know where he was going or what he'd do when he got to the unknown destination, he just kept going. He wasn't just a convicted killer anymore, but now he was an escaped convict, a fugitive on the run not knowing when that run would come to an end. Maybe tomorrow there would be a bullet with his name on it, or the following day, or the next week, but as long as he was a wanted man, someday it would find him. He didn't think of these thoughts or any of any of the other consequences of jailbreak as he rode deep into the hills, at that moment, all that mattered was the glad feeling of freedom.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Slim rode into Hawthorn during mid afternoon, slowing his mount as he approached the main street through town and coming to a complete halt just outside of the courthouse as a formidable sight met his eyes. There, just between the courthouse and the jail stood a newly erected gallows, built entirely for Jess. The thought made him feel sick, going as far as creating a wave of nausea to hit him solidly as he looked at the rope that suspended in air, ready to do its terrible duty.

Slim took a deep breath, then let his eyes wander through town. It was eerily quiet, with no one milling about anywhere. Every shop appeared to be closed, there was no one loitering in any of the chairs or benches along the sidewalks, and the saloon's swinging doors were unmoving, which was an uncommon sight in any town where men always seemed to be coming and going from booze filled establishments. Everything about the silence was odd, as if they'd just witnessed a gruesome death. _No, please God, no,_ Slim's anxious mind screamed, _I couldn't have been too late_!

Slim's eyes were quickly drawn back to the gallows. Everything appeared to be unused. The rope still had its perfect loop, the trap door wasn't sprung, and there wasn't any sign of death. Slim knew that most executions were done at dawn and since it was already well into the afternoon, there could have been time for someone to make it look brand new again. The nausea was hitting hard again.

Slim hurried his horse over the last few feet that separated his watching position and the sheriff's office and then he leapt from the saddle and ran into the barred building. No one was there. Slim's heart rate began to escalate as he walked slowly towards the cells, as the realization thumped with each beat in his chest that both cells were empty. One of the bunks looked like it hadn't been touched in a while, but the other had a blanket that was slightly askew and the pillow, if the flat little square that was there could be called a pillow, was propped against the wall. Slim put his hands on the bars that not too long before had been held by Jess' own hands and he felt his shoulders slump in defeat. He was too late.

He didn't know how long he stood there, eyes downcast, mourning silently, but he did finally pull away from the cell door. There was nothing he could do here, only grieve, but that was something he could do anywhere, but right now, there was something he alone needed to tend to. As horrific as it would be, he had to see Jess' body. Maybe there wouldn't have been a thing he could have done to save Jess from the hangman's noose if he'd arrived earlier, but there was something he could do now to save his best friend from an unwelcomed resting place. He wasn't kin, although in his eyes, Jess had been just as close to him as Andy, so maybe the sheriff and undertaker would let him take Jess' body home. It was where he should be, not in a place where people wouldn't care, wouldn't honor the life that he'd lived.

Slim exited the sheriff's office, the deathly structure being the first thing to meet his gaze he stood almost frozen to the ground, staring at the noose with intense remorse that suddenly began to be rivaled with a surging pulse of anger that he'd never felt before. The emotion was so strong that it marred most of Slim's senses, causing him to not hear the footsteps that approached which made him nearly draw his gun when a man stepped in front of him, replacing the image of the noose with a sheriff's badge.

"Who are you?" Sheriff Holloway snapped his question as he looked at the stranger in front of him with scrutiny.

"Slim Sherman," Slim couldn't stop his voice from sounding cold as he stared at the man that had taken Jess' life, perhaps legally, but still in Slim's heart, he was responsible.

"What do you want?"

"I'm here for Jess Harper," Slim said and as soon as the statement was spoken, the sheriff's gun was out of its holster and pointed at Slim's chest. "What is this for?"

"Get inside," Sheriff Holloway commanded.

Slim obeyed, although he would have liked to have decked the sheriff instead. He wasn't normally against men that wore stars, he usually respected lawmen of all kinds, but this one was different and Slim couldn't stop the animosity that seeped through his veins, especially now that a gun had been drawn on him as if he was a wanted criminal.

"What is this all about?" Slim demanded an explanation as he crossed his arms over his chest near the sheriff's desk.

"You said you came for Jess Harper," Holloway spoke with sternness, "that tells me you are in cahoots with him. Rather stupid coming here, don't you think? I could arrest you for aiding and abetting a convicted criminal, one that is bound for the gallows right outside that door. And you better believe he'll still get there, I'll make sure of it, even if it's the last thing I ever do!"

"You mean," Slim couldn't help but feel a smile twitch his lips, "Jess wasn't hung this morning?"

"He was supposed to," Holloway looked strangely at Slim. Either he was playing dumb, or he really didn't know what had happened. "But he escaped in the middle of the night."

"Jess is still alive," Slim said excitedly feeling the anguish from moments before fade away, replaced with intense relief.

"Don't go start a revelry to celebrate the fact," Holloway said dryly, "he's still been sentenced to hang, and he will once he's been caught."

"How did Jess escape?" Slim asked, hoping the answer wasn't that he'd knocked a deputy over the head.

"I don't know," Holloway scowled as he shook his head. "I couldn't find any evidence of how he got loose. It looked like someone might have sprung him free while my deputy was romancing his sweetheart. And that's why I can't stop thinking that you're somehow involved."

"I just rode in here not more than twenty minutes ago," Slim frowned with his agitation towards the disbelieving sheriff. "I left Laramie two days ago and hardly stopped riding to get here in time. So how could I have helped Jess?"

"You could be lying," Holloway rubbed the back of his neck, unable to believe Sherman's words.

"If you don't believe me, just send a wire to the Laramie sheriff, Mort Cory," Slim said quickly, knowing that Mort would back him up completely. "He was at my ranch as I rode out which would prove I am not involved in Jess' escape."

"I've done business with Cory before, he's a good man." Holloway sighed, knowing that if Sherman used Cory as a reference, likely his story was true. "So maybe you aren't guilty of helping Harper, but since you're so close to each other, perhaps you might know where he'd go. Do you?"

"Truthfully, no," Slim answered with a soft sigh. Jess was comfortable roaming in all sorts of places since his drifting nature hadn't yet completely been released. He could have rode to anywhere north or south, east or west and found a hideout where he could stay holed up for days or weeks without anyone finding him. He might not have been a true outlaw as defined by many, but he thought like one and would be able to outsmart any posse as long as he stayed equipped with the necessities on the trail.

"I guess I have no choice but to believe you," Holloway sighed.

"I'm glad you're finally coming around," Slim couldn't keep the sarcasm from lacing his words.

"I need to get back out on the hunt," Sheriff Holloway said after raising his eyebrows at Slim's scorn. "Your friend is getting farther away by the minute."

"I don't suppose you'd mind if I joined the search?" Slim asked, although he had no idea where to even begin.

"I can't stop you," the sheriff took his gun out of its holster to make sure it was fully loaded, and maybe to also show Sherman he was still in command. "But if you find him, you better bring him straight back here, because I can still easily entertain the thought of jailing you for helping a prisoner."

"I make no promises of what I'll do if I find him," Slim said honestly as he turned away from the gaping sheriff and walked out the door.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Slim sat atop Alamo on the outskirts of Hawthorn, taking in the scenery before him while trying to think like Jess. He would never be able to fully tap into his mind, as it was too complex since Jess kept too many personal emotions hidden. There were also secret talents that Jess hadn't yet revealed, which when Slim would see something new being displayed, never would surprise him at all. This all made Slim's task seem impossible as he set out to find Jess. Better him than the sheriff or a posse who would probably be thinking in terms of shoot first and not ask any questions, now or later, or anytime in the distant future. He wanted to find Jess to help him, not hurt him. But where would he even start?

Slim saw the multitude of tracks leading away from town. Some veered off to the north, probably thinking that he would flee to Canada. That was a possibility, Slim had known, since Jess would fully remember the trail to the Lolo that would take him into Canada. Other tracks trailed south, although Slim didn't figure Jess would have taken such a blatant trail as that one was. He saw the freshly trod path to the east, but there was nothing for anyone out there. Maybe west, although the tracks that went in that direction would eventually meet up with a pass, it was still early enough the snows had barely hit the highest terrain so Slim knew Jess could have easily hid up in a cave and no one would know where to look, including him.

Slim started out, heading Alamo on the trail west, before pulling him to a stop. Something was nagging him, and he couldn't shake the feeling. He couldn't put his finger on it until he heard Andy's voice in his head. Strange, that he'd think of his little brother while starting out on a search for Jess. But a memory, so clear as if it were spoken yesterday, came to him as on the wind. Andy was saying, "Jess will come home, won't he Slim?"

Home. Slim turned Alamo sharply towards Laramie, but did so by pointing his mount more in a straight line, not the carefully carved paths that were made by man. If Jess really was headed home, he wouldn't be using the main road, besides, Slim would have seen him on his hastened journey to Hawthorn. It would be best to search in the most obscure places while keeping a distinct track towards home.

After traveling for several hours, Slim stopped his tired horse and slowly dismounted, knelt at a stream and drank beside his horse. He sighed as he stood up, resting his hand on Alamo's neck. He must have been wrong. He'd gone too far, traveled too many unseen trails and found nothing. Jess wasn't headed home after all. He feared the time he'd spent wandering in the hills that somewhere closer to Hawthorn Jess had been found and already executed. That disgusting feeling of nausea started creeping into his body again. It was time to get on the move again to try to stifle it.

Slim mounted Alamo and looked up at the setting sun. It was beautiful, the colors were intensifying on the low, puffy clouds, more brilliantly lit in the west, but shading in darker, muted tones as the color spread eastward. Yet, despite the display his eyes were taking in, the aura refused to be registered in his mind. It was just another day ending that could also bring the ugliness of another life ending. Jess' life.

The longer Slim stayed rooted to the spot, eyes taking in the shifting hues of pink and gold, the more solemn he became. He had every reason to turn away, to ride onward in another direction. And yet, at the same moment, there was something in that sky that he couldn't pull away from that kept him riveted to the spot. Or maybe it wasn't in the sky at all, but something that helped create the beauty of the sunset, although this, being part of the earth. A hill, although he was surrounded by them, but there was one particular hill that was being used as the sun's complete backdrop. It stood out among the rest, as it was there where the sun would finally go from a full golden ball, to just a shimmering slit, and then dip behind that hill where only those on the other side could see its remainder. From where he sat on top of the patiently waiting Alamo, the sun rays that would soon disappear almost created a straight line from his spot, all the way across to that single hill. Just as the sun was about to sink beyond his sight, he suddenly had the urge to follow that line.

The hill was steeper than he'd expected, but his mount took the pace steady and surefooted, continuing on the straight line he'd envisioned. He'd lost sight of the sun and was beginning to lose sight on everything as the dimness started to take over. Shadows hid almost everything around him, and he wondered if he should head back the way he came, after all, he was only following a light that had long since gone out and if he ever reached the top, there would be nothing left of that light at all, but he kept his horse moving.

Suddenly, he knew why he'd come this way. The presence of Jess was so strong he would have sworn he was sharing the saddle with him. Slim stopped Alamo and looked all around him once and then twice. It was the second time when his eyes caught the barely noticeable silhouette of a horse staked out between two trees. He knew the horse even in the dark. Where that horse would be, its master would be close by.

"Jess?"

There was no response, but it didn't stop Slim from going forward. He dismounted and then led Alamo to where Traveler rested, where the horses immediately began to rub noses in recognition of each other. Slim secured the reins and then stepped away from the horses, hands on his hips, he stood still, looking everywhere for a sign of Jess. He had to be there as Slim could literally feel his presence, but also it was as if he could sense Jess' own eyes watching him. There was plenty of underbrush to make a good cover to hide in, and if Jess really didn't want to be found, he'd make sure not even Slim could do it.

"Jess," Slim started, hoping talking to his friend would get him to emerge. "I know you're here. I can feel you watching me. Besides, I can smell you. There's a strange aroma of a sweat stained shirt that's mixed with the stale odor of a jail cell."

"I reckon I should have doused myself in that river I crossed this afternoon," Jess' voice came from the dark, but didn't bodily come out of his hiding place.

"Then you'd smell like the stinky river bottom," Slim answered, trying to smile in case Jess could see the expression. "I crossed that river too, it smelled rather rank in places, which means I'd still know it was you hiding in there."

"Dad gum," Jess said softly, shaking his head.

"Are you going to come out?" Slim asked, as he searched for any movement in the shadows. "I could easily follow my nose to pinpoint your location."

"Did you come alone?" The question was soft and Slim noticed the note of fear edging Jess' voice.

"I'm alone," Slim nodded. "To my knowledge, there's no one but you and me around here for miles."

Slim smiled as the brush began to part and Jess walked out to where he stood in front of him. It was still quite dark as the moonlight could barely penetrate the treetop canopy that surrounded them, but he could see the expression on Jess' face, it read first of relief, followed by remorse, and then an eyebrow arced in confusion.

"How'd you ever find me?"

"I followed the setting sun," Slim answered with a shrug.

"Huh?" Jess shook his head.

"Let's just say I took a lucky turn," Slim put his hand on Jess' shoulder. "Because I figured you might be heading home. Was I right?"

"Kinda," Jess shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "At first I didn't know where to run, but then I couldn't stop thinking about you and Andy. I needed to see you one last time, and well, explain, I reckon. I planned on turning myself in to Mort if I made it that far."

Slim looked down at the ground briefly and took a steady breath. Knowing that Jess was risking his life being on the run to have one last day, or an hour, or as little as a mere minute back at the ranch to be with them made his throat feel tight. He wanted to tell Jess how much that meant to him, but instead as he motioned with his hand that they sit together on a fallen log, he said, "do you need anything, Jess?"

"I haven't ate anything for a couple of days," Jess put his hand on his empty stomach. "It hasn't complained much, but it's gnawing on my ribs right now."

"I have some jerky in my pack, I'll get you some," Slim retrieved the jerky and then handed a large piece to Jess.

"Thanks," Jess said after taking a bite. He sat still, slowly chewing the dried meat that tasted as good as steak in his mouth and then looked over at Slim.

"What?" Slim wondered why the puzzled frown.

"Why haven't you asked me about what happened," Jess shrugged, took another bite before continuing. "You know, if I did it or not."

"I don't have to ask," Slim said softly. "I know you didn't kill Laurel DeWalt."

"I didn't," Jess said quickly.

"I just said I know you didn't do it," Slim answered.

"How?" Jess asked, still moving the jerky around in his mouth. He swallowed, wiped his sleeve over his mouth and looked intently at Slim. "Everyone else thinks I did."

"I don't care what everyone else thinks," Slim said truthfully. "I believe in you Jess. I have no reason to doubt you. I think I know you pretty good by now. You'd kill lots of men that needed killing in a fair fight, but you'd never kill a woman, even one as despicable as Mrs. DeWalt was. You're a loyal man, I give you much credit for that, and you did what you thought you had to do back when she first came to the ranch to see her safely to Mexico. No matter what transpired between the two of you before, during and after, nothing would push you into a corner to kill her. I wish I could have stood up in court to defend you properly, but if anyone wants my side of the story, they'll hear plenty about my innocent partner, Jess Harper."

"This jerky must have more spices in it than I first thought," Jess said, rubbing the corner of his eye. He held up another chunk of jerky, although Slim knew it wasn't seasoned with enough spices to make a man tear up, he just nodded his head in understanding as Jess shoved the remainder of jerky in his mouth to cover up whatever moisture might spill from his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

After encouraging Jess to rest, Slim stood guard near the horses as he watched his friend lapse into a deep sleep. He shifted his weight to lean more solidly against a tree as the weariness was heavy upon his own shoulders too. But Slim wouldn't let sleep claim him. He would stand guard all night for Jess' sake, but come morning, he didn't know what action he would take, or what action Jess would allow him to take. Despite telling Sheriff Holloway that he didn't make any promises, Slim knew Jess would have to return to jail. But, as Slim had thought, maybe Jess had been thinking the right way after his escape after all, and maybe the best plan would be to finish the journey to Laramie to hand Jess over to Mort. Even if a hanging still was in Jess' future, at least that way they'd have more time together.

With a yawn, Slim straightened his position at dawn, ready to arouse Jess. He hadn't stirred once during the night and Slim was glad for at least six hours, Jess had nothing on his mind but peace. He reached a hand to touch Jess' shoulder and felt relief when Jess didn't recoil at his awakening. He had seen Jess sometimes react roughly coming out of a fitful sleep, especially if he felt threatened, but all that happened was the blue eyes were opened, ready to face whatever fate that day would hold.

"You hungry?" Slim asked, reaching in his pocket for more jerky.

"Not now, Slim," Jess declined as he stood up, running a hand through his hair. "You think we're still out here alone?"

"Didn't hear a thing all night except you snoring," Slim smiled as Jess flashed him a scowling glare.

"I don't snore," Jess responded, and then gave a half smile, "well, at least no louder than you usually do."

"Whatever you say, Pard," Slim put his hand on Jess' back. "I figure if it's all right with you, we should continue to head towards Laramie. I'm not sure what Mort could do, if anything, but at least you can find the comfort of home."

"Yeah," Jess rubbed his neck slightly, "the comfort of a rope right there in my own backyard."

"Mort and I won't let that happen," Slim gripped Jess' shoulder a little tighter. "It's where you said you were headed. What do you say now?"

"I reckon its best," Jess nodded. "Do you suppose we'll make it, though? Two traveling a trail is easier to spot."

"Two traveling a trail is also safer," Slim said with assurance, "because there's one to protect the other."

"All right," Jess grabbed his hat and set it on his head. "Let's go. I don't wanna stay in one spot too long, anyway."

"You sure were taking a roundabout way to get home," Slim said, shaking his head slightly as they traversed back down the hill that he'd climbed during the sunset.

"Had to dodge any posse," Jess said with a shrug. "I've done it before, just not with a death sentence hanging," Jess paused as he and Slim both grimaced at the word, "bad choice of words, well, as a convicted killer."

"I came into town yesterday afternoon and had a run in with the sheriff," Slim explained, "you sure had him buffaloed about your escape. He thought I had a part in it, but I convinced him that I couldn't have helped you since I wasn't in town. How did you do it, by the way?"

"Do I have to answer that?"

"No, if you want to keep it a secret, I won't press it."

"Good," Jess smiled, knowing an outlaw's secrets sometimes needed to stay kept. Besides, he wanted to avoid his cheeks from blushing when he told about his _bare_ scheme. "Anyway, you were saying?"

"Oh, right," Slim nodded as he continued. "The sheriff had no idea where you lit out to. From the trails that I saw outside of town, it looked like the posse split in different directions. I didn't see anyone on the trails I took, so it appears you dodged everyone well."

"Everyone 'cept you," Jess glanced at Slim with a smile.

"I wanted to find you, Jess," Slim said softly. "But not for the same reasons as the posse. You're my friend, yet it's even more than that. I couldn't let you be out here alone."

Jess blinked his eyes a couple of times, wishing he was eating that danged jerky again. He turned his head away from Slim to look farther down the trail as he led Traveler towards a narrow path that dipped into a creek bed. Stopping there, he dropped to the ground to splash the cold water onto his face to erase any sign of anything that might have slipped through his eyelids. Then he remounted, turning his horse to walk beside Alamo as they continued on the trail.

"It's been good to talk, Slim, you and me together like this," Jess said quietly, his voice filled with raw emotion. "But, are you sure you don't wanna know anything about what's been going on since I left your place last week?"

"You don't have to say anything you don't want to, Pard," Slim looked carefully at Jess. There was something in his tone that went deeper than what he was saying, but he'd never pry into the parts of Jess' mind that he chose to keep hidden.

"I figure I need to," Jess answered. "But I ain't sure I can say the words to explain very well."

"Do your best," Slim encouraged with a smile and then added, "I'm right here listening."

"I have no alibi, Slim," Jess lowered his head slightly. "If only Traveler could talk, he'd be able to vouch for me. But other than him, I was alone for several long days."

There was a lengthy pause, and Slim couldn't help but wonder if that's all he was going to hear, but Jess cleared his throat, and then slowed Traveler's pace down. Slim immediately brought Alamo to match Jess' stride so their mounts were side by side, step by step, as Jess began to speak again.

"I reckon you noticed I was a little bear-like before I took off on that stage business."

"Yeah," Slim nodded in reply. "But that's nothing that I haven't seen out of you before."

"True," Jess agreed, "but there was more to it than my normal bristles. Last Wednesday was the exact date of Bannister's raid on my family as I watched the fire claim their lives. I always feel overwhelmed with moodiness, or just plain old grief every year at this time. It was worse this year and I needed to get away to breathe air that wasn't so, don't take this wrong, but, homey."

"I understand, Jess," Slim looked at Jess' sad expression and felt his throat tighten. He should have known. When Jess had told him the grim details of his loss, he'd mentioned something about how it had taken place when the heat of the summer had began to wane. In Texas, that was right about now. "I'm sorry, Jess, for your loss and the agony that you endured as a young man. I'm sorry, too, for the suffering that you're going through now."

"Thanks, Slim. I didn't even think how close I was to the Diamond D," Jess frowned for a moment after he said the name of DeWalt's ranch. "I just found a quiet place and camped. There I was, alone in my misery when suddenly I was surrounded by a posse. Sheriff Holloway asked me what my name was and as soon as I said it, there were at least twenty guns on me. I had no idea why, so I asked, and I admit, it didn't come out too politely, but when the sheriff said I'd murdered Laurel, I felt guilty and I must have looked guilty, too. I felt guilty because, well, of me and Laurel, and how I once felt about her, even though it had been as wrong as wrong can be. Before Tumavaca, from the time I left the DeWalt ranch, it wasn't easy to forget her as I thought she was that special. Now, I can honestly say, Slim, that from the time you and I returned home from Tumavaca until the day I was arrested, I hadn't thought of her once. Not once. She wasn't so special after all. But that didn't stop the memories from coming back when he said she was dead. I didn't love her, never really did, I reckon, but I still felt guilty because of our past together because it never should have been."

"Is that when you got arrested?" Slim asked after a minute of silence.

"Yeah," Jess sighed. "Except there was something that happened right before the cuffs came on. Like I said, I had spent all that time grieving, well, the sheriff didn't believe me when I said I'd been there camping for several days and hadn't seen Laurel in months. Then I felt forced to mention the fire and why I was out there, which made a couple of men in the posse laugh at a dumb comment the sheriff made and then when the sheriff asked if there was anyone that could back up my story, I lost my temper. The sheriff said I was under arrest and I started fighting. I suppose that was a stupid thing to do, but at the time, I was so dad-blamed mad I couldn't think straight. Next thing I know I was getting clobbered over the head and I woke up in that barred box in Hawthorn. It was just another one of those times that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But not for the wrong reason," Slim added quickly. "No one should be punished for spending the necessary time for heart healing. Sheriff Holloway must have a chunk of coal where his heart should be. I knew I should have decked that sheriff when I had the opportunity."

"Then you'd be stuck in that lousy jail instead of out here with me," Jess pointed out, although inside, he was glad for Slim's feelings towards the lawman that arrested him. "Slim, let's quit with the jail jawing and just push on."

"All right," Slim motioned to a trail that aimed more southerly towards Laramie. "That way looks good."

For the next twenty minutes they rode, side by side at times, but then as the trail they were on narrowed, Jess started to pull into the lead. It didn't cross Slim's mind at the time that it wasn't the best position to be in considering Jess was a man on the run, he just kept Alamo going forward with Jess completely in front of him. When noise reached his ears, however, Slim wished it was he that held the place in front and started inching Alamo to be closer to Traveler's side.

"Slim, do you hear?" Jess turned sharply to look behind them. The sound of pounding hooves coming toward them was unmistakable. It had to have been a posse.

"Be still, Jess," Slim said cautiously, afraid that Jess was going to bolt.

"It's Holloway!" Jess hissed through his teeth as the sheriff came into view. Jess took one more look at the sheriff and the dozen or more men right behind him and felt the urge to flee. He gave Traveler the command to go a second later.

"No, Jess, no!" Slim lunged Alamo forward and grabbed a hold of Traveler's reins, stopping Jess from running that would only get a bullet put in his back. Even then, several of the men in the posse held rifles in their hands, their sights set on the condemned man.

"Sherman," Sheriff Holloway glared harder at Slim than Jess as he pulled his horse to a stop next to them. "I told you what I'd do if I found you helping the prisoner, and here you are, going in the opposite direction of my town!"

"Hold on," Jess interjected for Slim's defense. "Leave Slim outta this!"

"Can't do that," Holloway pulled his gun and placed the aim somewhere between both Slim and Jess, showing that he could put a bullet in either of them in just a second's time.

"Now look," Slim said in a quieter tone than Jess, although he felt a lot angrier than his voice portrayed. "I caught up with Jess up in the hills and we decided it'd be best to have Jess turn himself in to Mort Cory in Laramie. That's where we're headed. There's nothing underhanded going on here at all."

"If you got to Laramie I might believe you, but that doesn't matter at all now," Holloway said, still holding his gun with his right hand, but as he spoke he pointed to Jess with his left. "But Harper here was legally tried and convicted in Hawthorn and back to Hawthorn he will go. The judge sentenced him to hang at dawn, and that dawn may have come and gone but there'll be a new dawn tomorrow."

"But Sheriff," Slim started, but was quickly interrupted.

"There's nothing else you can say or do. Tomorrow morning Jess Harper is going to hang!"

The sheriff dropped his gun back in its holster and then with a quick motion, he slapped a pair of handcuffs onto Jess' wrists. The sound of them locking into place was just as final as the sheriff's declaration.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

It was close to dark when the men returned to Hawthorn. Seeing the sheriff leading the posse that surrounded the prisoner created a stir amongst the citizens and they soon filled the streets with applause and shouts of celebration that the murderer had been recaptured. For a moment, both Slim and Jess wondered if the sheriff would have gone back on what he'd said about the hanging taking place in the morning and just get it over with right then. It was still light enough to see and the audience seemed eager enough, but all that happened when they rode into town was Jess was pulled from his horse, rather roughly Slim noted, and ushered into jail.

Slim entered the sheriff's office just as the iron door was loudly slamming shut. He walked to the cell and put his hands on the bars from the outside as Jess put his hands on the bars from the inside, both seeing the torment that each endured as their blue eyes took on their full look of pain. Slim bit the inside of his lip, knowing that he had to do something. He turned to see the sheriff going through some papers on his desk and took a step towards the lawman.

"I need to talk to you," Slim stood behind Sheriff Holloway and when the lawman didn't give him immediate attention, Slim took the two steps so that he was directly in front of him. "Do I have to repeat myself?"

"What about, Sherman?" Holloway rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache although Slim had no concern if the man did or didn't have one.

"Not here," Slim said, glancing at his defeated friend in his cell, "outside."

"Fine," Holloway agreed, "but not for long."

"Jess Harper is an innocent man," Slim said as soon as the door to the office was closed. He wished that he had proof to back up his statement, not just his say so, but the only evidence he had was Laurel's letter, and that was something that he was going to withhold since all that it would do would make Sheriff Holloway even more convinced that Jess was the killer. He would keep the letter a secret from Jess also, for it wouldn't do him any good to know what her intentions were. Slim felt that he should continue to protect Jess from Laurel, even after she had died. But what else could he do now, to protect him from death?

"Look, I get it," Holloway put his hand on Slim's shoulder. "I know he's your friend and it must be hard to believe your friend is a murderer, but that's just the way it is. You have to accept it and move on."

"If my friend was a murderer, I might just do as you say, but he's not," Slim returned quickly. "Jess did not kill Laurel DeWalt, but someone else did. While Jess is sitting there in that cell preparing to die, the real killer is running around loose."

"All right," the sheriff nodded, "all right. I'll play into your game for a moment. If your friend is innocent, then who did kill Mrs. DeWalt?"

"I don't know," Slim had to answer truthfully, but then the other truth came quickly out. "It's no secret that Mrs. DeWalt wasn't pure in her marriage. She probably has left a string of men from here to Mexico and who knows how far east or west. Any one of them could be guilty of her murder."

"True," Holloway sighed gently. Of course he knew, he himself had been one of the hopefuls that one day she'd sashay his way.

"And what about Arnold DeWalt?" Slim added, remembering something Jess had said when he had decided to escort Laurel to Mexico. "Jess told me that he thought DeWalt would kill her if he found out the truth."

"I didn't think I needed to question Arnold's whereabouts," Holloway explained slowly. "You should have seen his face when I told him his wife was dead. It was as if a part of him died too. No, DeWalt didn't kill her."

"Then what about the man she went after down in Tumavaca, Montero Rios? He only wanted her money, but when that was gone, he could have been angry enough to kill her. And like I said before, there could be many others."

"I know more than you think about Mrs. DeWalt's roaming nature," Holloway said making Slim's eyebrows rise. "No, I wasn't one of them, but that's beside the point. It doesn't matter if she made every single one of her lovers hate her, there was only one man's name she said when asked who killed her. It was Jess Harper."

"She lied during her life, maybe she'd lie even at her death."

"Maybe, but I doubt it." Holloway shook his head. "The couple who was with her described the scene as absolutely heart wrenching. Mrs. Platte said she'll never get over it as long as she lives. Mrs. DeWalt barely had life left inside of her, she wouldn't lie. She wanted to say Jess Harper's name, so badly that it was on her very last breath."

"Then the fault must be in that couple," Slim said, feeling like he was grasping for his last straw and failing miserably. "They must have heard her wrong, or just embellished the scene or something."

"What would they have gained by that?" Holloway sighed in frustration. "The Platte's are normal, hardworking farmers who live a quiet, simple life. They didn't even know Mrs. DeWalt or Harper at all. What reason would they have had to make up a story about people that they had never met? I'm sorry, Sherman, but there's nothing else that can be done except justice."

Slim closed his eyes as the sheriff's words sunk into his soul. He had reached the end of the line. Slim felt an added weight fall heavily onto his shoulders because he had finally come to the harsh reality that there was nothing he could do to save Jess from hanging. He felt the pain of failure and knew the next pain would be that of loss.

"Sherman, despite whatever you might think about me, I'm not a cold hearted man. I'm a sheriff that abides by the law. That man inside that cell broke the law, which leaves me with an unpleasant, albeit necessary duty to do in the morning. I can see what this is doing to you. It's tearing your insides up. Maybe it would be best if you just rode on home and let go of your friend now."

"I won't do that," Slim answered, his voice in a low, quiet tone. "I'm going to stay with Jess all the way until the end. If you have no objections, I'm going back in there and stay by his side. He's been alone way too much in his life. I am not going to let him be alone now."

"All right, Sherman," Holloway nodded his head. "I have no objections, but you should know that I have hired two guards and sworn in another deputy to keep Harper where he belongs, so if you are thinking of any plans to spring your friend loose in the middle of the night, don't."

"I won't," Slim vowed as he reached his hand to open the jail's door.

"One more thing," Holloway stopped Slim with a hand on his arm. "I'll be keeping your iron."

Slim handed the sheriff his gun and then went inside the office. He paused just inside of the doorway as Jess lifted his head to meet his gaze. There was a stool that sat unused in a corner, so Slim walked to it, grabbed it and then set it next to Jess' cell. There Slim sat, ready to spend these last hours with Jess.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"You don't have to keep me company, Slim," Jess said softly, eyeing the guards and deputies that filled the cramped space before turning his eyes back to Slim.

"I know," Slim nodded, but his eyes were more on his boots than Jess, "but I want to."

"Something's on your mind other than what I'm facing," Jess looked at Slim intently. "What is it?"

"I feel like I've let you down, Jess." Slim put a hand over his face for a moment, breathing deeply as he formed the words in his mind before he said them. "I should have done something to find the man really guilty of Mrs. DeWalt's murder."

"There's been no time for that, Slim," Jess tried to reassure Slim. "We both know that she had plenty of time after Tumavaca to meet up with several men. One of them could have killed her and be already in another Territory by now. It would've taken too long to track them down, and that's only if they were willing to admit to being with her. I'll never know why she said my name as she died. Maybe it was her last chance to get back at me for that final rejection I gave her, I don't know. But I do know this. Slim, you have not let me down, not for this, not for anything. Don't beat yourself up any further on my account."

"It might take awhile for me to stop feeling this way," Slim said with a sigh. "But I promise you Jess, that someday I'll find the man that's really guilty and clear your name."

"My name isn't that important to clean, Slim."

"It is to me."

There was silence for awhile, as a young waitress came by with a plate of fried chicken and a gravy covered pile of mashed potatoes. The guards and deputies heartily ate their fair share and then some, as both Slim and Jess declined. Jess had only requested a cup of coffee, and even that he only took a sip, before handing the still steaming cup back through the bars. Slim wished he could provide some medicinal purposes instead, but knew it was unlikely that he'd be allowed.

"Are you gonna take me, I mean, take my body, back home?" Jess asked, swallowing through the thickness in his throat, wishing then that he'd kept the coffee cup in his hand.

"It's where you belong, Pard," Slim nodded.

"Thanks," Jess coughed to try to do what the swallowing couldn't accomplish. "I was concerned I'd be tossed in an unmarked grave on one of the west's many Boot Hill's."

"You'll be placed alongside my family, Jess," Slim promised, and could already see when he closed his eyes the image of himself digging the grave with Andy and Jonesy watching close by. "I know Ma and Pa would want it that way."

"I'm sure my family woulda been appreciative of that," Jess nodded, thinking of his own Ma and Pa. The little graveyard outside of their burned home had four crosses with each name etched by Jess' hand on them. Too many years had passed for the names to still be visible if the crosses were even still upright, but he saw it anew and then pictured a cross or a stone with his own name on it. He shook his head hard wanting to release the scene and it disappeared as quickly as it came.

He started seeing other things then, things that he owned, things that he cared about. Then his mind started seeing the people that he'd leave behind and wondered how they'd react to his death. Mose would probably cry openly. Mort would pace his office, rub his hand over his face, and look longingly at the door, wishing it would fly open with one of Jess' usual outbursts. Jonesy would be the stalwart one, supporting both Andy and Slim in their darkest grief like a father would, only wiping at his eyes when no one else was looking.

"Slim," Jess rested his elbows on his knees, his hands folded under his chin. He had a look in his blue eyes that Slim wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. Yes, he'd seen Jess a little blurry eyed with emotion before, and even more so in the last few days they'd been together, but what he saw now was different. The hue was a different shade, from remorse, regret, or sorrow, he didn't know, but the moisture that he saw made the rims of his own eyes grow wet.

"Yes, Jess?"

"I've been thinking," Jess didn't really turn his head to look at Slim as he spoke, but kept his focus on nothing in particular, maybe it was because in his mind's sight, he was viewing something altogether different. "I want you to take Traveler home with you. He's gonna need a friend after I'm gone. Please work him and ride him as often as you can. I'd kinda like Andy to have my gunfighter's gun, but don't give it to him until he's older. Another thing about Andy, if I had any wages owed me, just use them and the little I put in the Laramie bank to help pay for Andy's schooling. No, don't tell me I shouldn't do that, what good is a dead man's money anyway? Use it for that boy. He means everything to me, Slim. Don't let him grieve me so hard that it bitters him. He said he wanted to be like me, but don't let him grow up to be like me at all."

"Jess," Slim said, having a hard time speaking. "Andy would do right well being just like you, and it'd make me mighty proud to have him do so. As for your money, I'll do as you say, just because I don't think I should be arguing with you right now. And don't worry about Traveler, because his home will be my home as long as he lives."

"Thanks, Slim," Jess cleared his throat twice before continuing. "That means a lot to me."

"Anytime, Pard."

"Are you gonna be okay, Slim?" It was an honest question that deserved an honest answer.

"No," Slim said as quietly as his voice could speak above a whisper. "I'll never be the same after this. Sure, I'll carry on and keep a part of you with me, but no, Jess, it hurts too much now to be able to say that I'll be all right after tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, Slim," Jess put his hand through the bars to touch Slim's arm. "Forgive me for causing you so much hurt with all my troubles, not just this one, but from all of them. You shared them all with me, you know that's not something that every man woulda done."

"I wouldn't have had it any other way, Jess, and that's the honest truth. Trouble might be one of your middle names, but that's not the only thing you've brought me. It's been your friendship that's counted the most. I guess that's why I took a chance on you in the first place after I found you trespassing on my property that day, because I needed a friend and you needed one too."

"Friends," Jess said the word thoughtfully. "I ain't had many of those in my life, at least none that really counted anyway. My life probably woulda ended shortly after we met had you not taken me in. I was riding a dangerous road, with no ties or connections to anyone. Your friendship probably saved my life, and made the time I lived after that worth living, even up till now."

Both men stayed silent in their thoughts for what seemed a lengthy time in the quiet of the room. For a moment their thoughts mirrored one another from their first meeting before going in different directions, but coming around again as they focused on the friendship that they shared. It was going to end far sooner than either had ever imagined or wanted. There had been times when Jess had been pulled away from the ranch, but had always returned. They both had felt it was destined, their friendship, since nothing had come along so final to separate them. That is, except death, and it was coming for one of them, way too soon.

"There's still more that I gotta say, since we're so close to the end." Jess turned his head to look towards the barred outside window but couldn't see anything but darkness. He knew once there was light in the sky, he would have no time left for anything. Whatever else needed to be said, needed to be said now. "Things that you should know, that you might not already know."

Slim found a smile at the corner of his lips. "You mean like how you swiped an entire tray of molasses cookies that Jonesy made after he came back from War Bonnet leaving only a few left for me and Andy to eat?"

"How'd you find out about that?" Jess asked astonished.

"I found the tray you cleverly tried to hide under your pillow," Slim laughed, "plus you left a trail of crumbs from your bunk to the side door, leading outside to the shower stall."

"I had hoped the chickens woulda cleaned up after me. Oh well, I ain't regretting that decision," Jess smiled at the memory. "They were great. First time I ever ate anything while taking a shower."

"You ate them while pulling the water's rope?"

"Nah," Jess shook his head, "only after I was done, to wash off the smell of the cookies."

Slim laughed some more, shaking his head back and forth as he envisioned Jess as he recounted the event with the cookies. It wasn't long before he could picture Jess standing in the shower stall another time fully clothed, but this time with a bullet wound in his shoulder.

"What're you thinking about, Slim?" Jess asked when Slim's face had turned quickly from mirth to misery.

"Whit Malone."

"Oh, yeah," Jess inadvertently rubbed his shoulder where he'd been shot by Malone's cohort. "You lost a friend when he died."

"We weren't really friends, I don't think. I didn't know Whit, he said as much himself," Slim said wistfully. "He died because he was evil and followed someone even more vile than himself. We might have been fighting over the gun that killed him, and I didn't intentionally kill him, but for awhile after that incident, I couldn't help but wonder what I would have done if you really would have been killed by that bullet he'd ordered. I probably would have ended up killing him anyway, without a fight."

"Just as I would have killed Ed Caulder if I woulda known the letter he received had your name on it," Jess pounded his fist on his thigh at that memory. He had been ready to draw, fighting, spitting mad, with his gunfighter's gun strapped to his hip. But Caulder had left Laramie, and Slim sent him to Cheyenne. In the end the man ended up dying from a bullet from someone else's gun, but Jess had been plagued for weeks after Caulder's death that not challenging Caulder further could have resulted in Slim's death.

"I guess we've always put up a good fight when one or the other is in trouble," Slim said, the memories and nostalgia starting to wane for the moment.

"Right up to the end, Slim," Jess nodded. "You have for me, all the way."

"Thanks, Jess," Slim said softly, feeling his nose start to run as the tears he had been fighting all night began to smart his eyes again. "Thanks for everything."

"Thank you, too," Jess answered as he watched the first droplet slip down Slim's cheek. "Thanks for being such a good friend, Slim. There has been none better."

"I'm sorry, Jess," Slim put his head down on his arms. "I can't hold it back any longer."

Jess held his breath for a moment as a sob tore through Slim's throat. He felt the agony that poured from Slim's soul and through every one of his tears, as some even trickled down his own face, but for now, he kept himself composed to allow Slim the time to grieve. After tomorrow, he wouldn't have any more opportunities to be there for Slim, so he wanted to be the strength and the support that Slim needed for as long as he possibly could. It was a parting gift to give, Jess thought, and one that would hold a memory in Slim forever.

After a few minutes, Slim inhaled a deep breath and wiped his hands over his eyes. He didn't care how he must have looked to the other men in the room, but truth be told, if anyone would have noticed, there wasn't a dry eye in the entire place. Slim cleared his throat and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to finish the drying around his eyes and when he tucked the cloth back away, he felt the tension in his body release.

"I'll be strong now, Jess," Slim promised.

"Why don't you try to get some rest, Slim," Jess flicked his eyes towards the clock on the wall above the sheriff's desk. Two A.M. Did that mean only four or five hours to go?

"I don't want to leave you alone."

"I ain't alone," Jess gestured to the guards and deputies. "Besides, I happen to know you didn't sleep at all last night, and since you rushed from Laramie up here you probably didn't sleep on the trail. Do me a favor and go bunk down with Trav and Alamo."

"Are you sure?" Slim asked. He was exhausted, from lack of sleep and emotions, but he wasn't sure he should leave Jess.

"Yeah, go ahead," Jess nodded. "I'll still be here at least," the pause was nearly ten seconds long, "till dawn."

"All right, Jess," Slim finally stood up, stretching the kinks from his legs and arms. "I'll be back," another pause, even longer this time, "at dawn."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

It was dawn. Jess stared through the barred window as the sunrise sent its rays of light over the land, particularly lighting up the freshly cut boards that were solidly built into the gallows that would soon take his life. He watched townsfolk start to mill in the streets and he wondered why anyone would want to get up at the crack of dawn to watch anything as gruesome as a hanging. But it wasn't just any hanging, it was his hanging. Jess continued to keep his focus on the illuminated gallows until he heard the key being put inside his cell door. Turning, he saw the sheriff with his deputies and the guards standing there just outside his cell ready to take him to where the noose waited. There would be no escape this time. No delaying the inevitable. He wouldn't even try.

When the cell door swung wide, the sheriff's office door opened nearly at the same moment, causing every head to turn in its direction. Slim filled the doorway, his face set firmly in an agonized expression that perfectly portrayed the occasion, but just as he'd left in the night, there was still no gun on his hip. Seeing the man without a weapon made the sheriff release the breath he was holding, then turned to Jess and clamped the cuffs on his outstretched hands.

Jess took a few steps forward at the command of the sheriff's gesture with his gun but stopped still as he became directly in front of Slim. Both sets of blue eyes bore deep into the other. Now that the final moments had come, neither man could speak the words their minds were saying. No words were needed, however, as they had said everything during the late hours of the night and only now, they just needed each other's presence.

Sheriff Holloway made a noise in his throat, a clear indication that it was time to move on. Slim stepped aside, but only far enough for the sheriff to continue to walk Jess forward. Slim didn't care that he was where a deputy was supposed to have been positioned, didn't care that the sheriff gave him a fiery glance as he stayed by Jess' side, keeping his stride the same as his partner's as they began the arduous walk towards the gallows. They could take these steps across the road together, but they couldn't go all the way to the gallows.

The sheriff put his arm out in front of Slim to stop him from taking another step, and he reluctantly obeyed. Jess turned to look at his friend the moment Slim's feet stopped, his facial features not portraying the torment his body, mind and soul was enduring. Slim brought his hand up to Jess' shoulder and gave a tight squeeze trying to relay the message he wanted to send. With a small twitch of Jess' mouth, Slim knew it had been received. Slim nodded his head, trying to smile through the pain, but quickly found himself biting his lips to conceal the sob that threatened to escape his mouth. He had let the tears overcome him during the night, but now he fervently aimed to be the rock of strength Jess needed. Slim gripped Jess' shoulder a little tighter and then released as Jess returned the nod, their hands coming together in a parting handshake. This was their goodbye.

How could they say that final word out loud? They were as close as if they'd spent their entire lives together. They'd fought Indians, battled outlaws, even battled each other, they'd saved each other's life, risked their lives for the other, cleaned each other's wounds, supported one another and yes, loved each other as brothers love one another. After everything they'd been through together, saying goodbye would have been rather inadequate.

As Slim stayed rooted to the ground, Jess continued forward. Even though the sheriff with his deputies and the guards surrounding him, now that Slim was no longer by his side he felt significantly alone. If the crowd that kept getting bigger were making any noise, Jess couldn't tell, as he could only hear his feet striking the ground with each step and they seemed to somehow get louder with each that brought him closer to the bottom step of the gallows.

There he stopped, only briefly, as now the guards and deputies filed away, leaving only the sheriff beside him, who also served as the executioner. Jess looked up to see the noose swaying slightly in the morning breeze, his neck muscles already tightening at the thought of the rope soon being fitted around it. He took the first step up, then the next, the noose growing larger with each inch that brought him closer to it. Jess moved slowly, but it seemed as if he was the only thing moving, except for the noose, which still swayed back and forth.

There were now no more steps to climb. Jess was there, atop the gallows, the dangling rope so close it touched his face when it moved. The sheriff touched Jess' back, turning his body around so he faced the town in a more forward position. Jess' eyes quickly found Slim and seeing the grief on his partner's face made him almost wish Slim wasn't there at all to witness his death like this. But it also made him want to stand even stronger, to hold his head even higher, and to show he wasn't afraid to die.

"Any last requests?"

The words were close to his ear, but he didn't turn his face to the man who asked. Jess took a deep breath, pondering the question. Last requests? If he really could have what he wanted, there would be no one on earth that could fulfill it. First, he'd ask to see Andy, to hear his laughter, to see his smile just one last time. He'd want to shake hands with Jonesy and strangely enough, catch a scent of the liniment that often lingered in the air around the old man, as he often rubbed it on his back to help with his ongoing pain. Then he'd catch a laugh with Mort, as they'd always seemed to find something to tease each other with. Jess would then want a final ride on his horse going softly at first after his gentle hop into the saddle, then bursting forth into a powerful stride that would take him over miles of beautiful scenery that maybe only God Himself had ever touched. But he would get none of these requests. However, in his mind he did see these things, one after the other, and it was enough. He gently shook his head in decline to the question. The rope now came over his head and was tightened around his neck. He was about to die. Jess closed his eyes and took a deep breath. From somewhere close by, the preacher began to read Psalm 23.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Slim felt as if he was suffocating as he watched Jess take each step up the gallows. He took a deep intake of breath, but the air that rushed into his lungs didn't sooth the tightness in his chest. This was the worst feeling he had ever felt in his entire life. No bullet wound that he'd suffered, or illness that he'd survived, or any other death that he'd witnessed could compare with the pain and anguish he now endured.

He had always had a fear in the back of his mind ever since he invited Jess to live on his ranch that he would have to witness Jess' death someday. He lived a reckless, wild and sometimes careless lifestyle that often resulted in him being in trouble. But the death scene he'd envisioned would always be on the wrong end of the gun. From a bullet that would take him down in a place where no doctor, no matter how skilled, could remove. A gun battle would be the most fitting end for a former gunfighter with the reputation of Jess Harper, but this wasn't any gun battle. It was death by hanging and worse still, hanging of an innocent man. And he had to watch it all.

"Oh, dear God," Slim started to pray, but the words didn't get any further than the beginning plea. Since learning of his hanging sentence, Jess' death had been replayed in his mind so many times he could see it without closing his eyes, and yet, here he was watching it, and none of the scenes already rolling through his mind could match the horror he now witnessed.

The rope was being put on Jess' neck at that moment and yet, it felt as if it was attached to his own. The tightening of his neck, throat and down into his chest where the air was being held in apprehension was very real. Slim couldn't help but gasp when the air in his lungs needed to be expelled.

"I'm sorry," a voice close to Slim spoke.

Slim didn't recognize the voice immediately and even though he didn't want to take his eyes off of Jess, he turned to see who was speaking to him. It was the Diamond D's foreman, George Hannah. Slim barely nodded at the man, and then put his eyes back on Jess, although the pain that ripped through his chest at what he saw, he should have just dropped his eyes to the ground.

"I'm sorry you have to see your friend die like this," George said, sounding strangely remorseful. "I truly didn't think anyone else would have to suffer."

Slim blinked his eyes rapidly three times as something in his head began to register. He turned his head once again to look at George as someone near the gallows was quoting Psalm 23.

"What did you just say?" Slim saw something in the man's eyes and every one of Slim's senses clicked. He saw guilt. Suddenly, earnest rage filled Slim's body, nearly flaring from his nostrils like a bull when provoked. He grabbed George by the collar and shook him fiercely. "Tell me what you know! Don't let an innocent man die!"

"Sherman, what are you doing?" Arnold DeWalt stepped close to defend his friend, trying to pry Slim's hands loose that still gripped George's collar like a vice.

"He acts like he knows something about your wife's death!" Slim said, the urgency in his tone grabbing DeWalt's attention.

"George," Arnold stared at George, afraid what the man was going to say. "If that is true, you have to say so. Tell me at once!""

"I killed Laurel." The admission came out deadpanned, but the words sent a sharp jolt through Slim's veins.

"Stop!" Slim ran as fast as he could towards the gallows, and even though it wasn't a long distance, it seemed to take way too long to get there. "Sheriff, stop the hanging!"

In the few short seconds that passed as Slim ran, he watched Jess' eyes open, showing a flicker of hope as Slim neared, shouting for the halt of the hanging. At the same moment another set of eyes, that of Sheriff Holloway, bore into Slim with total exasperation. Taking the hurried steps up to where both men watched and waited, Slim hoped he wouldn't have to launch the sheriff off the top of the gallows to forcibly stop the sheriff from proceeding if his words wouldn't be enough.

"What is it now, Sherman?" Sheriff Holloway couldn't conceal his irritation.

"George Hannah just confessed to killing Laurel DeWalt," Slim said in a rush of words.

"You'd say anything to stop your friend from hanging," Sheriff Holloway shook his head in disbelief. "Step off the gallows, Sherman."

"I won't!" Slim barked, bringing a smile to Jess' face as he saw up close how Slim could take on his own characteristics. "I'm not lying. Arnold DeWalt heard his confession too. Ask him!"

By that time both Arnold and George had come beside the steps of the gallows, the look on both men's faces was evidence enough that there was truth to what Slim had just declared. Sheriff Holloway stepped away from Jess and held his breath.

"Tell the sheriff what you did, George," Arnold said, keeping his tone level.

"I killed her," George said the three words slowly and Sheriff Holloway had Jess' cuffs off and on Hannah's wrists a moment later.

As soon as Slim saw the cuffs being slapped on George's wrists, he hurried next to Jess and released the rope from his neck. Jess quickly began to breathe easier and he rubbed both hands around his neck, the feeling of freedom flowing over him from the neck all the way down.

"Why, George?" Arnold put his hand on his friend's shoulder, although in his heart he knew the reason why, he had to hear the reason from George himself.

"She was no good," George covered his face with his hands, breathed a deep sigh and then uncovered his face to look Arnold calmly in the eyes. "I intercepted a letter she sent you. Arnold, she was coming back. You know she would have just started to hurt you all over again. I couldn't let that happen, I just couldn't. I had to kill her to save you from her. She hadn't changed at all, was still as wicked as ever. Even before I shot her, she gave me an open invitation. She was poison and she had to be stopped so she would stop hurting you. So, I stopped her."

"Oh, George," Arnold felt his pain of his loss all over again. "I know what she was, and why I loved her still, I don't know, but, there could have been another way. You didn't have to kill her."

"Harper," Sheriff Holloway turned towards Jess and spread his hands out in an apologetic gesture. "What can I say other than, I'm sorry?"

"I don't hold anything against you, Sheriff," Jess said truthfully. "I'm just glad I can walk away from here. I just got my life back, so I ain't holding any grudges."

"We'll talk some more in my office," Holloway said as he handed George Hannah off to his deputy to take to jail. "But right now I think you best step off these gallows. They weren't built for an innocent man."

"Thanks Sheriff," Jess said, shaking Holloway's hand, "you don't know how much I appreciate you saying that."

"I've got to talk to Arnold and George privately in my office," Holloway said and then gestured towards Hawthorn's diner. "Why don't you two get something to eat, charge it to me, and then stop by my office later this afternoon?"

"Sounds good to me," Jess looked at Slim to see the agreement on his partner's face.

After devouring a couple of steaks and four pieces of pie, Jess and Slim returned to the sheriff's office, only this time, when each man entered, there wasn't any feeling of agony going in with them. The sheriff was alone at his desk and immediately rose at their entry, with both Slim and Jess' weapons in hand.

"Once again, Harper, I apologize for accusing you, for my ill behavior, and for not believing you," Sheriff Holloway said as he handed Jess back his gun belt and then returned Slim's gun to him.

"Like I said," Jess answered as he buckled the gun belt to his hips, "I ain't gonna be resentful, although I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I don't ever wanna come near your town again."

"Understandable," Holloway smiled.

Jess turned then to leave when he saw George Hannah, sitting in the same cell he had been locked in, the same defeated look on his face. He still felt great relief that he was free from the burden of a hanging, but seeing George, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the man because he knew his fate was the same rope that had been fitted around his neck.

"Arnold told me he should have known it was George," Holloway said softly as he followed Jess' gaze to the prisoner. "He noticed that the last few days before Mrs. DeWalt died that George had been retiring early, when in reality he'd been out searching for her. He'd remembered a lot of things after George confessed, most notably how he felt about Laurel. If I had only known that George despised her, I would have looked into it. Again I apologize, Harper, for making a mistake that nearly cost you your life."

"I've made mistakes too," Jess replied, "it just makes a man a better man to own up to 'em and do something about 'em before it's too late. Can we go now Sheriff? No offense, but your jail makes me mighty fidgety."

"Sure, you're free to go."

"Then we're heading out," Jess smiled, "so long, Sheriff."

"There is one more thing Harper," Holloway leaned against his desk with his arms crossed, a visible frown on his forehead. "There's been something that's been bugging me that I can't shake." At Jess' eyebrows rising, he continued. "How did you escape from this jail?"

Jess shrugged, glanced at Slim and then smiled a mischievous grin, "I didn't use anything other than what was on my own body."

"How's that?" Sheriff Holloway asked even more puzzled than before.

"Let's just say you need to keep the keys to the cells farther away than the amount of clothes your prisoner is wearing," Jess grinned as he slapped his hat on his head and strode out the door.

As the door swung shut behind them, Slim stopped Jess before they got to their horses. "You mean you," he pointed from his shirt all the way down to his pants.

"Yep."

"That must have been a sight," Slim started to laugh as he watched Jess' eyes crinkle and a pink flush form on his cheeks.

"I reckon it was," Jess quickly slapped Slim on the shoulder. "Come on, Slim, I wanna go home."

They both mounted at the same moment, but Slim pulled away into the street first. Before he could give the command to Traveler to go, Jess turned in the saddle and looked at the shadows that shrouded the gallows. The image still made him shudder, but he was no longer the condemned, he was free. The rope was for the man who murdered Laurel DeWalt, which was not Jess Harper.

"You all right, Jess?" Slim asked as he waited for Jess, his eyes also being drawn to the gallows.

"Yeah," Jess nodded, turning his head away from the sight. "Let's go."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

"There's something I'd kinda like to do and that looks like a pretty good place for it," Jess stopped about midway on their trail to Laramie the next day. He pointed towards some low, rolling hills that were covered in green from recent rains and less intense summertime heat. There were clumps of trees, nearby meadows, lolling streams and a herd of elk lazing near the top that all created an inviting scene for him.

"What's that?"

"One of my last requests," Jess answered, ready to let Traveler fly. "You can come with us if you'd like."

"Maybe in a moment," Slim nodded as he soon realized what Jess had in mind.

"See you in a bit, then," Jess smiled and gave Traveler the encouragement he needed to run.

He started out gently at first, taking the first few feet slow and deliberate. Then he let Traveler soar, their bodies moving in a steady rhythm together, making rider and horse seem to flow as one. He let the power of his horse take him to places that were both beautiful and as wild as they were as they topped each hill and then dipped back out of sight down the other side. He turned Traveler back towards where they'd began, as their journey was ready for another to join. Jess eased Traveler into a slower stride and then turned a full circle to where he could see Slim just below the rise of the hill he was on. He raised his arm and gave a wave before motioning for Slim to come on up. Slim led Alamo swiftly up the slope until they were stopped beside one another.

"See that scraggly tree up there?" Jess pointed and waited for Slim to nod before he continued. "I'll race you to it and whatever's on the other side we'll take it on together. You ready? Go!"

There was no winner or loser when they met up with the landmark tree as they didn't stop to argue whose horse's nose crossed the imaginary finish line first. They kept going, riding side by side, keeping each other's pace as the hooves of their horses pounded into the earth as they sped down the other side of the hill. Nearing a stream, they turned and looked at each other, their smiles wide and filled with excitement, feeling like they were a couple of youngsters again. They pushed through the water that sent a stream of droplets cascading all around them bringing the wonderful sound of laughter coming from each man's lips. It was the sound of freedom, but it was also the sound of life.

"We'll be home tomorrow," Slim said much later as they started to bed down for the night, creating a scene that was highly reminiscent of their final night on the trail coming back from Tumavaca together.

"Home," Jess said, remembering that night all over again. "It's more than a nice word, it's a perfect word. I can't wait to get back again."

"We'll get there sooner if you get to sleep sooner," Slim said, laying down and closing his eyes. "Good night, Jess."

"Wait Slim, I've was just thinking. Do you think that could ever happen to us?" Jess waited until Slim rolled over on his bedroll to look at him.

"What could happen to us?" Slim asked sleepily.

"What George did for Arnold."

"You mean killing his woman because she did nothing but hurt him?"

"Yeah," Jess answered thoughtfully, one hand resting on his jaw. "Do you think that could ever happen to us?"

"I'd hope not," Slim answered quickly, but then he paused for a moment before continuing. "I'll tell you this much, Jess. No one knows what a man is going to do when pushed to their limits. Now I'm not saying that you or I would kill a no good woman if it was your woman or my woman involved, but I do know that I would go to almost any lengths to help you if and when that no good woman would hurt you."

"You already proved that when you came after me when you learned what type of woman Laurel really was," Jess reminded Slim.

"Yeah, I guess I already did."

"I'd do the same for you, Pard," Jess vowed, "just don't go getting involved with one of those types of women to make me prove the point."

"I don't plan on it, Jess," Slim yawned, laying back down.

"Good," Jess raised his coffee cup in the air, although Slim was already starting to doze off. "Here's to no more women with bad reputations. Deal?"

"Deal," Slim muttered in his state of half sleep, but would never recall what he'd agreed to later on. It was a good thing, since it was likely that as the days, weeks and years went on together that their promise wouldn't be fulfilled by either of them.

By morning light they were back on the trail towards home. With each mile that brought them closer, brought a greater sense of anticipation in each man's chest. Slim, grateful that he was returning with Jess, and Jess, grateful that he was returning at all.

"Do they know we're coming?" Jess asked as they neared the top of the slope that would take them down to the ranch house.

"Yeah," Slim nodded, "I sent a telegram to Jonesy before we left Hawthorn."

"It's sure gonna be good to see so many friendly faces again," Jess let out a light laugh. "It'll be a good change after looking at your solemn one for so long."

"Fine," Slim answered with wit. "I'll turn my face into a hard rock, be a no nonsense ranch boss to keep you on your toes to do all the work that probably piled up while we were gone."

"Sounds good to me, Slim," Jess said that made both men laugh. "Hey, I can see Andy!"

"Jess! Slim!" Andy shouted a whoop as he ran towards his brother and friend just like he did in the very beginning. "You're home!"

Jess was off of Traveler before the horse even came to a complete stop and had Andy in his arms, the boy visibly crying. He had to take a couple of deep breaths to prevent himself from doing the same. "It's all right, Andy, I'm home."

"What took you so long coming home?" Andy asked, wiping his eyes after Jess released him. "I got real worried when Slim took off after you without any explanation."

"Let's just say that I got into a little trouble up north a ways and like usual, Slim helped me get out of it."

"How much trouble?" Jonesy asked, although he secretly knew. Mose had heard the word from another stage driver who'd been in Hawthorn and the story was passed from stage to stage until it finally landed at the Sherman Station. Jonesy had made sure the words had never been told to Andy, but he'd found it actually harder to keep his own worry lines from showing to the boy as each day went forward until he received Slim's telegram.

"Enough that we won't be forgetting it anytime soon," Slim said, putting his hand on Jess' back.

"You can say that again," Jess inadvertently rubbed his neck.

"Well the who, where, why's and what for's don't really matter much right now," Jonesy said with a chuckle. "What's important is that you're home and I'm sure glad of that, Jess."

"Thanks Jonesy," Jess smiled, "it's great to be home."

"Good to hear, 'cause I baked some molasses cookies to celebrate with," Jonesy started ushering everyone towards the house. "Come on inside, likely they're still a bit warm."

Jess turned to Slim, the question mark visible on his face. "How'd he know?"

"I included a little request in my telegram," Slim explained. "And I won't even complain if you eat every single one of them."

"Nah," Jess said as a smile broke out across his face, "I'd rather share them with all of you."

"Let's get to it then!"

Jess lingered for a moment while Jonesy and Andy went inside, and then put his hand on Slim's arm to keep him outside a minute longer. "Thanks Slim, for believing in me, for not giving up on me, and for seeing me all the way through."

"You're welcome, Jess," Slim squeezed Jess' shoulder. "I'd do it again for you, anytime, but let's try to stay out of trouble for awhile."

"You're the one who told me that trouble was my middle name," Jess reminded with a sly smile. "I'm sure it's bound to come around soon enough."

"You're probably right, Jess."

"Hey," Jonesy poked his head through the door. "Aren't you two coming in? I can't keep shooing this boy away from these goodies much longer. If you don't come along soon, I'll let him into them."

"We're coming right now, Jonesy," Slim said as they both walked into the house together.

While they were enjoying their celebration, laughing, eating, hugging, and talking nearly all at once, several miles to the north in the middle of Hawthorn, a crowd was gathered, a rope was tightened, and the gallows that were built for the man who murdered Laurel DeWalt were used.


End file.
